if you love me (don't let go)
by Tarafina
Summary: "You think victims are born? No. Victims are made. And you? You're the perfect victim. Always willing to throw herself on the fire. A martyr. Because at least if you die saving them, they'll remember you." [set in season 6 / four-parts & epilogue]
1. mistake

**warning(s)** : sexually suggestive ; language ; violence  
 **rating** : high teen / mature  
 **word count** : 11,837  
 **timeline** : set in season 6, a few months after bonnie escapes the prison world. pre-season finale, so kai is handled differently here than in the show. no heretic/lily plotline. i originally started writing this while bonnie was still stuck in the prison world and picked it back up to finish. so it's somewhat au-ish.

* * *

 **summary** : "You think victims are born? No. Victims are _made_. And you? You're the perfect victim. Always willing to throw herself on the fire. A martyr. Because at least if you die saving them, they'll _remember_ you."

* * *

 ** _if you love me (don't let go)_**

* * *

Bonnie calls it a mistake before it ever begins, because she knows, in the end, that is all it will ever be.

In her head, she sees it clearly. She is the in-between, the stop-over, the interlude. She is not forever, not long-lasting, not his other half. She's fun; to rile up, to sleep with, to push past her limits. She's a moment; brief, forgettable, easily ignored.

She calls it a mistake because if she's prepared to make amends, to be done with it, to learn from it, then it can't really hurt her.

The burn of his hands on her skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake—

The coiling desperation in her belly and licking up her thighs—

The taste of his mouth on hers, his tongue still wet from between her legs, teeth and lips plucking at hers—

The soft graze of his nose bumping and sliding along her own—

The sound of her name on his lips, rushed and heavy and thick with want and need and _something_ —

The way their fingers twine, him reaching for her, holding on, keeping her close while they lay beside each other, sweat cooling over their skin—

She can move on from him. She can forget him. She can pretend she never knew what it was like to have him inside her, beside her, holding her, wanting her. She can feign ignorance to the way they move together, like a dance all their own, interspersed with laughter and snarky banter. She can wash away the guilt, because there is none, because it never mattered, she never really mattered, not to him. She never could, never can, never will.

He will always love Elena. First and last. She is the name his mouth will know like prayer; the face he wakes up hoping to see; the hand he reaches for when danger lurks around the corner. She will be his partner, his glory, his 'fuck you' to a universe that always left him second, or third, or not at all.

And Bonnie will move forward, a little fractured but still together, holding on to the pieces of herself that chipped apart, eager to fall, to be stepped on as he rushes out of her bedroom with a barely heard 'It's Elena, she needs help.'

She watches him go, and she tells herself she feels nothing. _They_ were nothing. They were a mistake waiting to happen and, now that it has, she can finally stop waiting.

* * *

Bonnie dresses slowly, not eager to face the latest problem, to watch how frantic he is that the love of his life is hurt or missing or any number of things. She hates herself for her lethargy, because as much as she knows caring only hurts… _It's Elena_. Her best friend. Her sister. It's not Elena's fault that Damon loves her. Not loves her _more_ , because there is no love between him and Bonnie. His heart has been with Elena since the beginning. It never had a chance, never moved an inch, never even glanced in her direction. She is arms and legs and breasts and mouth, but not heart.

( _no heart)_

She takes a shower, because she needs the smell of him _off_ of her. She needs to forget that just minutes ago, he was breathing on her neck, fast asleep, an arm around her waist, lost in comfort, safe and sound. The honesty of his body, quiet and still beside her, is one she won't know again. One she's already trying to scrub from her mind and her fingertips and between her legs. She can't let him touch her again, can't let herself fall apart hoping for something she already knows is pointless.

She scrubs her body methodically, everywhere he touched, and she asks herself why she ever started this. Why she ever let him kiss her in the first place. Because it was _him_. It was him who came to her on a night like any other. He kissed her in the doorway of her home, a house that echoed with too much loss and pain and absence.

He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks. And instead of pushing him away, slowing them down, she pulled him forward, until every inch of her was pressed to him, until every inhale was filled with his exhale. For as long as his mouth was pressed to hers— a breath; a second; a brief reprieve— she felt adored. She felt reverence in the fingers that ghosted across her skin. She heard it in the voice that said her name, over and over again, as they moved together in her bed.

It was probably just appreciation masquerading as desire. Appreciation that she'd saved his life instead of her own, that she'd sent him back and gave up her chance. But she fixed it, even with two holes in her gut from an arrow and a knife, she dragged herself to safety, she fixed her own problems, she got herself home. Because she's a Bennett, and she will always save herself in the end.

( _she must_ )

He'd tried to bring her back. They all told her how hard he tried. There were no stories about the others, about how little they tried, about how quickly they let go of her. But she knows. ( _sheknowsheknowsheknows_ ) She feels it in her bones that they gave up on her long ago. She tries not to let the resentment eat at her, but it does. It settles into her bone marrow and chews away at her insides.

She returned three and a half months ago. It was two weeks before she had him in her bed. She swears, if she closes her eyes, she can still remember every second of it. Soft and gentle and overwhelmed with longing. She wonders, at first, if maybe that was her way of proving she was back, she was alive. Because she was trapped for so long. _Alone_ for so long. She closes the door on the voice that tells her 'if it had been Elena, they never would have given up.' She slams that door loudly, because she knows where those thoughts will lead. Nowhere good. Not for her.

( _a garage filling with exhaust fumes_ )

What matters is she's back. And life resumes…

Bonnie gets dressed, her hair still wet, and she grabs her keys. She drives to the boarding house, humming to the music on the radio, detached and already tired. She wasn't sleeping when the phone rang. She was staring at him, aglow in the moonlight, hesitant but teetering on the edge of hopeful. The phone ringing was probably a sign, a warning. It was time to stop. Time to face reality. Time to let go of could haves or might haves. There were no _should_ haves, because she knew the shoulds. The 'she should be a better friend' and the 'he should be with Elena.' She didn't need shoulds.

* * *

The boarding house is tense, but she's not surprised to see Elena is fine, sitting on the edge of the couch, worrying her lip as she watches Damon pace from one end of the room to the other.

"That's not possible," he says, and Bonnie can tell by the look on Stefan's face that it isn't the first time he's said it.

"It is. I know his face, Damon. It was _him_." Elena sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Look, I know you don't want to believe it, but he's _back_."

"He's _dead_ ," Damon bites out. "I killed him myself."

"Not enough apparently," Caroline pipes up.

Damon glares at her, but Caroline doesn't care. She merely crosses her legs and leans back in her seat.

It doesn't escape Bonnie's notice that Caroline is in a robe that isn't hers, a masculine robe. She knows without having seen it before that it's Stefan's. Caroline's been staying at the boarding since Liz died. She hasn't been dealing well, which surprises nobody. But Stefan's taken it upon himself to get her through it and, despite arguing with him regularly, Caroline is letting him. Perhaps more than Bonnie thought.

"Who are we talking about?" Bonnie leans back against the wall, tucking her car keys away in her pocket. What little information she's heard doesn't do much for her. Damon's killed plenty of people, some of whom (probably most of whom) didn't deserve it. Any number of them could have come back seeking revenge, especially since death seems so temporary of late.

"Kai," Elena announces, with the kind of gravity Bonnie isn't sure Elena deserves, if only because she never had to undergo the torture that Bonnie had.

Sure, Elena had been kidnapped, but, while Bonnie had been mentally and physically beaten down, Elena only had to listen to him go on some long, bordering-on-insane diatribe about the woes of his life and how she was going to help him fix it by being the reason they would hand Jo over. Crazy, but not stupid, the plan worked. Only Damon managed to kill Kai long before he had a chance to merge with Jo. Or so the story was told to Bonnie, who arrived in Mystic Falls a week later, having gotten no personal revenge on Kai, despite it being one of the only things keeping her going during her long stay in isolation.

"So. We kill him again. Throw a party." Bonnie sighs as she moves across the room, taking a seat on the arm of the couch, next to Caroline.

"I don't think it'll be as simple as that. He seemed… _strong_. We can't ignore the fact that he was dead, which means he came back somehow…" Elena looks around at all of them, trying to instill a sense of worry. "He had powers. He was showing them off. He had to get them from somewhere, right?"

"If he did, they won't last long. He'll need to absorb more. It's not like with the Traveler spell, that kept him going for a while, but when he takes it from a witch, it can only last so long," Bonnie says.

Damon nods. "So, he's either leeching off whatever witch he happens to see, not smart, _or_ he's got someone he can steal powers from anytime he needs…"

"Well, what are we going to do?" Caroline wonders, rubbing her fingers over her temples. "How are we even supposed to find him?"

"Maybe we don't need to find him yet, just the source of his power." Bonnie turns to Caroline. "Call Tyler, ask him if he knows where Liv and Luke are." She looks to Damon then, but he's already caught on.

"Calling Ric, I got it," he says knowingly, holding a finger up as he thumbs the screen of his phone with his other hand.

Five minutes later, she's not surprised to learn that Jo and Liv are accounted for, but Luke isn't answering Liv's calls.

"Problem solved," Damon mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right. What're our options?"

"Locator spell," Elena suggests.

"Kai might be crazy, but he's not stupid. He'll block anybody from finding Luke. He's probably still in town and he wants us to know he's here, which means he'll keep Luke close so he can keep draining him." Bonnie claps her hands down on her thighs and stands. "It's late and he probably just felt like making an entrance. I can put a protection spell on the house, make sure he can't get in while you're sleeping. Tomorrow, we regroup, start checking anywhere he might be hiding, make a game plan." Without waiting for a reply, she starts moving around the house, binding the doors and the windows against anybody who isn't already inside from entering. It takes more energy than it does time. By the time she's done, sweat dots her brow and her throat is parched from chanting.

Caroline appears next to her with a glass of water, smiling gently. "I asked Stefan to make up a room for you. I have some pajamas you can borrow."

Bonnie drinks back most of the glass and then hands it back, shaking her head. "I'm not staying."

Frowning, Caroline stares at her worriedly. "Bonnie, it's not safe out there."

"I'll be fine." Bonnie pulls her into a hug, squeezing, and then steps back, pausing as she looks her over. "How are you dealing?"

"I… I'm okay," Caroline tells her, but her voice is thin and she's too quick to smile reassuringly. At Bonnie's unconvinced look, she sighs, her shoulders slumping. "I miss her. I wake up in the morning and the first thing I do is reach for my phone to text her, but then I remember, half-way through, and it hits me all over again." She shakes her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. You have enough on your plate, and I'm just adding to it. It's _okay_. I'm going to be okay."

Bonnie pulls her in for another hug, spotting Stefan over Caroline's shoulder, lingering in the doorway to the living room. She can vaguely see Damon further behind him, still in the parlor, a warm hand braced affectionately on Elena's shoulder.

Stefan pushes off the wall and approaches, his head cocked with question.

Bonnie nods at him and, when she leans back, she squeezes Caroline's hands. "It's late. You should get some sleep."

"Are you sure?" She stares at Bonnie searchingly. "I can come with you. It'd be safer."

"I'll be fine, trust me," Bonnie soothes before smiling at Stefan as he reaches them. "Let Stefan take care of you, okay?"

"What about you?"

"Care—"

"I just got you back," Caroline interrupts. "You deserve to be cared for, too."

Bonnie believes that she means well. She knows that, of all of them, Caroline probably missed her the most. Caroline's made it clear, even as she's been grieving Liz, that she wants Bonnie close, wants her best friend in her life, wants to keep her safe. Bonnie loves her for that. But timing is everything.

"We'll talk tomorrow," she promises.

Stefan steps closer then; he gently tugs Caroline to his side, an arm around her, hand rubbing her back soothingly.

"The house will be safe; the spell should hold up at least a week. You won't be able to invite anybody over, but at least it gives you a place Kai can't get to," Bonnie informs him.

When she starts for the door, he makes one last attempt, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay? Like you said, it's safe here."

Bonnie smiles at him, but it's stiff and formal. "I'm sure."

She steps out the door and makes her way to her car. She isn't hurrying and a part of her wonders if she's hoping. Hoping Damon will notice; that he'll stop her or make her stay.

The door to the boarding house doesn't open. Damon stays safely tucked inside. With Stefan and Caroline. And his beloved Elena.

Bonnie pulls out of the driveway and, instead of going home, makes her way over to Grams' house. She doesn't go often, only when she needs a shot of nostalgia. But this time she needs more than that; she needs guidance and wisdom and preferably a little help in figuring out how it is she's going to put down someone like Kai, this time for good.

* * *

It's early when she wakes up, she can hear birds chirping outside the window and a heavy, banging knock on the front door.

Pushing off the couch, still dressed in her jeans and wool sweater, she crosses to the door, briefly feeling a pang of disappointment at not smelling the breakfast her Grams' would've had cooking had she been alive still. There's nothing but dust and stale air to greet her and her mouth turns down. The coffee table is covered in books and research, pieces of information Grams had collected over the years. There's a journal of sorts, highlighting the events of 1994, when Kai was sent away to his own personal purgatory. Bonnie spent the whole night reading it, not only on the spell and the ascendant but on Kai himself, on how her Grams thought Kai's powers worked and what kind of an enemy he or anyone of his kind could make against them. It was an informative read, one that was going to come in handy shortly.

When she reaches the door, she's not all that surprised to find Damon on the porch, glaring at her.

She sighs. "It's a little early for house calls."

"Cute." He's brimming with agitated energy, his body one big, overgrown _twitch_. "You wanna tell me what you're doing, _alone_ , when a psychotic succubus is on the loose? One who, let me remind you, has a tiny little vendetta against you."

"I don't know why. I'm not the one who killed him." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans in the doorway. "Of everyone, he's probably out for you."

" _Technically_ , you did kill him. He just came back to life, shot you with an arrow, and messed up our 'go home, Kai free' plans."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, he stabbed me later, so he should consider us even."

Damon closes his eyes and looks like he's trying to drudge up some composure. Still, it's through gritted teeth that he says, "You can't just walk around out there without anybody to keep an eye on you."

"Considering I'm an adult, actually, I can." She shrugs her shoulders high. "Besides, I was doing research. The whole point of running over to the boarding house at three in the morning was to make sure Elena was okay. She's fine. Next step is to start planning revenge in her honor, right? Well, I planned."

He frowns. "Why didn't you do that at the boarding house, where it's safe?"

" _Because_. I needed Grams' books and notes. She had a whole journal on Kai and what he could do." She offers a sarcastic smile. "The first step to murder is preparation."

His eyes are wide, and just a little crazy. "You could've grabbed what you needed and come _back_."

Bonnie feels a headache coming on. "Are we just going to argue circles around each other? It happened, Damon, it's over." Her wording leaves lead in her stomach, suddenly taking on an entirely different meaning. "Look, I'll grab what I have and meet everyone back at the house at noon. Caroline looked tired, we should let her sleep in."

"She can sleep when Kai is dead."

Bonnie glares at him, her lips pursed. "Don't start. Her mother _died_ , Damon. If she needs some time and support to get over it, then she's going to get that. I don't care how much Kai annoys you or freaks Elena out. Caroline is _grieving_."

Scowling, he looks away, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "Doesn't mean you have to wait until noon. Get your things, you can come over now."

" _Stop_ ordering me around. I said I'll be there at noon." She reaches for the door then. "Non-negotiable." She slams it in his face.

She's glad he can't come into Grams', the house having been transferred over to her some time ago. He has no invitation, meaning all he can do is yell and shout and bang on the door. But even that he chooses not to do. Instead, he calls, "I'll have my eyes on the clock, Bon-Bon. You don't show, I'll know where to find you." With that, he leaves the porch and walks off to his car.

She watches him go from the front window, waits for the noise of his engine to fade from her ears, and then she turns, taking a deep breath.

She needs to shower, eat, and get dressed. She wants to be at her best when things go down, and she knows they will, long before noon.

* * *

Liv looks surprised to see her, Tyler not so much.

He sighs as he opens the door to find Bonnie standing on what passes for a porch at Lockwood Manor. "Where's the rest of the Scooby gang?"

Bonnie shrugs, and then walks past him, her eyes on Liv. She jumps right to the point. "Location spells are generally simple. It's not difficult to block one, and Kai might be a little rusty, but I'm sure he can figure it out. The thing is, when it comes to _twins_ , you can't block the other one out. It's a loophole."

Liv looks hopeful, her wide eyes darting to Tyler, who moves to her side, shoulder pressing to hers supportively.

"What do we need to do?" he asks.

Bonnie stares at Liv, her expression stiff and serious. "Find Luke, and tell me where he is."

"I can't let you go on your own." She shakes her head, wild curls bouncing at her back. "Luke is my brother."

 _So is Kai_ , Bonnie thinks, but swallows the acidic words before her mouth can fold around them. "We find out where he is and we make a plan from there. I don't want Luke in the crossfire either. If you can get him out of the way, _great_."

"But it's not your priority." Tyler stares at her, his mouth flat and his brow knit. "They don't know, do they? That's why they aren't here. You plan on taking him on yourself. _Alone_."

"That's _suicide_ ," Liv warned, her eyes wide. "Bonnie, Kai is—"

"I know what he is." She stares at Liv. "This is simple… Do you want your brother back or not?"

Liv takes a deep breath, her face falling, and she turns to Tyler. There's a moment, a pause, before, he nods.

It doesn't hurt. The idea that Tyler doesn't step up and say 'we should do this together' or 'don't do this, we'll find another way.' People have their priorities, and Bonnie's never been one.

"Okay." Liv nods and then pivots on her heel. "It has to be blood, right? Not hair or something? Because of the twin thing."

Bonnie follows her deeper into the house. "Yeah. Blood."

Liv keeps talking; nervous chatter as she plucks at her fingers and makes her way to the parlor. Bonnie ignores it and keeps her mind focused. In a few minutes, she'll know where Luke is, and from there, she can track down Kai and finally be rid of him. Nervous anticipation swells in her stomach.

It'll all be over soon.

* * *

When Bonnie was seven years old, Jacob Fuller put a wad of gum in her hair. It was picture day. She had on her best dress; Grams had bought it especially for the occasion. Bonnie had stood on a stool in the bathroom while Grams did her hair. It was the first time she remembered thinking that it was okay she didn't have Caroline's or Elena's silky, straight hair. Instead, she had a little poof of curls and bright blue dragonfly hair clips; she felt undeniably _pretty_. Until Jacob thought it would be funny to stick his chewed up, blue Hubba Bubba cast off in her hair while she stood in line to get her picture done. And suddenly she didn't feel pretty; she felt awful and different and a strange mix of sad and angry that she didn't know how to voice or act on.

And then Tyler was there. He punched Jacob so hard he fell on his butt, glasses askew, and lip puffy and bleeding.

It wasn't what her dad or Grams would have said to do. _Violence doesn't fix anything, Bonnie_. But in that moment, feeling as low as she ever had, she felt her heart crawl back up from the floor and find its place behind her ribcage. Because someone said _'no.'_ Someone said ' _stop_.' Someone said ' _this isn't right and I'm not going to let you pretend it is_.' It was the first time Bonnie realized that you didn't have to take what was happening to you. You could fight back. And if you wouldn't, someone else might. Maybe even should. It was also the first time she looked at Tyler Lockwood, a boy who'd always been just a little too angry and smug and mean for her liking, and she saw someone she might call 'friend.'

Later, it wasn't Tyler that helped her cut the gum out and rearrange her hair into something passable, that was Caroline and Elena.

But after her pictures were taken, where she smiled wide and bright and her tearstains had long dried, she found Tyler outside, climbing on the monkey bars with Matt. She gave him the Oreos from her lunch and she popped a kiss on his cheek and thanked him. He turned pink, wiped his cheek with his hand, and muttered, "Whatever."

He kept the cookies.

And Jacob kept his distance.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Tyler wonders, his hands flexing on the steering wheel.

They're driving through town, toward an abandoned housing complex that nobody ever goes out to anymore. According to the map they'd used to track Luke, this is where he's being kept, and this is where Bonnie expects to find Kai. The last time she was anywhere near that part of town, it had been for a party. Back when they thought it'd be fun to tear the boards off the windows and doors and fill the dusty skeleton of a concrete house with candles while they got drunk. Eventually, the police broke it up and they figured the woods were a better place to have their parties and bonfires, so they'd left and never come back.

Now, it's there, on the horizon, a milestone of the past and the present.

Is this where she'll die?

The concept isn't beyond her. Death has come calling more than once. She can't say she doesn't fear it. She does. She fears how familiar it's become. Like a hand always waiting for her to reach back. Maybe it was always headed here. The lead up between her and Kai has to go somewhere. When she'd come home and found out he was dead, that he wasn't a threat anymore, it hadn't felt real. It _couldn't_ be. Not when she still carried the scars and trauma like lead weights, everywhere she went, every breath she took. And now she knows why. Because he wasn't gone, not really. He was just biding his time, waiting.

"You know the plan." Bonnie looks to Liv. "Find Luke, get him out, and get as far away as you can."

Liv stares at her a beat, her lips pursed, like she wants to argue, but her survival instinct is stronger. She and her brother have been on the run for a while; they know the drill.

Tyler doesn't.

"What about you?"

"I'll handle it."

He sighs, long and heavy. "And if Kai's stronger than you think?"

"I'm not underestimating him. I know Kai is powerful."

"More powerful than you?"

 _Yes. Maybe. I don't know._

"You should leave town," she tells him. "Put it in your rear view mirror and just… _drive_. Don't look back. Get as far as you can." Bonnie stares at his profile; the length of his jaw drawn tight, his shoulders bunched up, anger and stubborn pride swallowing him whole.

"Even if we do, if you don't take him out, he won't stop at Mystic Falls." He looks at her, his eyes dark and heavy. At some point, they stopped being teenagers. Stopped being kids just enjoying life, day by day. They stopped being Tyler the jerk with anger problems and Bonnie the judgmental cheerleader. They'd lost friends and family and themselves in the shuffle. But Tyler had a chance. He could be the good guy that swept in when she was seven years old and put a stop to something that could've evolved into something worse. He could aim that anger somewhere else, make it useful, build a life for himself somewhere else.

"Then I'll take him out," she says, her tone cool and calm and oh-so-certain.

The ' _or die trying_ ' goes unsaid.

Tyler seems to know.

He stares back at her a moment, and then deflates. He casts his gaze back to the dirt road ahead, passing boarded up houses on the way. The grass out here is yellow and dry, brittle with a lack of care or interest. This was a neighborhood once, filled with children and families. Kids riding bikes. Flower gardens pampered to perfection. Mailboxes lined up at the ends of manicured lawns. But no more. Now it's a graveyard of what was. Empty shells of homes, haunted by forgotten ghosts, crowding shadows, and cobwebs. Graffiti spills over stucco walls that have long faded and dulled.

The map seems to glow the closer they get to where Luke is, and Liv's hands tremble, rattling the paper.

Tyler reaches over, drops a hand atop hers and squeezes.

Bonnie looks away, casts her gaze ahead to a lone house in the distance, where the door is noticeably bereft of boards.

 _There you are_.

* * *

They find Luke inside the house, on a floor littered with garbage and half-burned candles; he's unconscious.

Liv makes a little whimpering noise as she spots him, and then she's there, kneeling next to him, her hands hesitantly touching his face and his neck, searching for warm skin and a pulse. Bonnie watches from the doorway as Liv's shoulders sag with relief. And then Tyler is helping to drag Luke up off the floor. He's dead weight between Tyler and Liv, but they grunt and take it, bringing him outside.

They get halfway to the SUV when they feel it, a shift in the wind.

Bonnie turns her head and sees him. _Kai._ He has a dandelion trapped between his fingers, twisting it left and right, as he grins at them savagely, walking calmly through a sea of brittle long-grass.

Bonnie's chest squeezes; fear and trepidation spreading through her. Still, her voice doesn't shake as she says, " _Go_."

Tyler pauses and looks back, but Liv is still moving, hurrying toward the SUV, and when forced to choose, Tyler goes.

They get Luke shoved into the back and take their seats up front before careening back down the dirt road. For home or a hospital or the highway, Bonnie's not sure, and she doesn't want to know. She wishes them well in whatever they choose. She has more important things to worry about.

Kai tisks as he wanders closer. "Come to face the big, bad wolf on your lonesome? Not your brightest moment, Bon-Bon…"

She raises an eyebrow. "Who says I'm alone?"

Kai stops, casts his gaze around dubiously, and then grins at her. "You're just messing with me."

Bonnie stares back at him. "How'd you do it? How'd you come back?"

He brightens then, and flicks the weed away to rub his hands together. "Get _this_. So, when I snuck back over here I had a _lot_ to catch up on. The internet, Brangelina, Crocs…" He waves a dismissive hand. "Anyway, long story short, I binge-read all the Harry Potter books. I know what you're thinking, 'but _Kai_ , what does that have to do with anything?' I'm getting to it." He points at her. "You remember when you said I was a sociopath? You weren't far off the mark. All the big psychologists would say I don't have a conscience, you know? There's no empathy in these bones... _But,_ it turns out, even the worst of us still have a _soul_."

Bonnie blinks at him. And then it clicks. "You figured out how to make a horcrux? _Seriously?_ "

"Yes!" A giddy laugh bubbles out of him. "It wasn't easy, and it wasn't exactly like the book. JK's a great writer, but she wasn't out to make a How To on real magic, you know? It just gave me the idea, really. If I could put a little piece of my soul somewhere on this plane, it'd keep me here. Don't get me wrong, Damon put some serious effort into killing me. Kudos to him. But I had a back-up plan and it worked."

"You can't _split_ your soul." Her mouth screws up with distaste.

"No, _but_ , you can put it somewhere else for safekeeping. And that's what I did. As soon as I died, the spell triggered, and instead of sending me off to some new form of purgatory, my soul hid until the coast was clear. My body needed time to mend. Decapitation is a bitch. But eventually, it pulled itself back together and my soul wandered home. Now I'm whole and hale. Ready to go again." He winks at her. "Neat trick, right?"

Bonnie shakes her head. "Don't you get tired of outrunning the inevitable?"

"You tell me. You're getting pretty good at it yourself." He starts to circle her, his good humor fading in favor of that predatory glint in his eyes and the feral upturn of his lips. "That's what this is, isn't it? One last Hail Mary. Kill me and live to see another day. Or don't, and finally surrender… Just between us, which one are you hoping for? It's gotta get _exhausting_ fighting the good fight. I mean, what do you really get out of it? There's no parades, no appreciation, no happily ever after… Poor little Bonnie Bennett, she's got nobody and nothing waiting on her at home. That's why this is so easy for you, right? They're all tucked away somewhere safe while you're sent out to take on the threat to their survival. What kind of thanks is that?"

"You don't know my friends. And you _really_ don't know me."

"Oh, but I _do_. I watched you, remember? I was there for all four months of your and Damon's little dance with hope and defeat. I saw every fight. Heard every whispered secret. Watched every tentative step you two took, closer and closer together. But he was still out of reach, wasn't he? Still had Elena Gilbert on that bourbon soaked brain of his when all you wanted was for him to just _see_ you." He shrugs. "I don't see the appeal, personally. Elena's pretty, sure, but such a _damsel_. Then again, for me, power and control is more seductive than any woman could ever be."

Bonnie glares at him, her lips pursed. "I don't need your villain speech, Kai. Let's just get this over with."

"But I came up with some great material. Where was I? Oh, _right_ …" He wags a finger. "See, I don't feel pity like regular people do. You see a broken bird, maybe you kill it to put it out of its misery. But me… I like the misery. I like the _suffering_. So, that four months of watching you walk that tightrope of love and hate…" He sucks air in through his closed teeth. "Better than television."

Bonnie pivots so she's facing him better. There isn't much space between them now, seven or eight feet at best. She'll need him closer for this to work. But he has to do it. If she does it, he'll get suspicious. She's spent most of the time they've know each other trying to distance herself from him. To walk closer would be a red flag.

"I've got it all planned out, you know? See, I take care of you first. You're my biggest obstacle. Especially now that you've scared Liv and Luke right out of town. So, after you, then I think I'll go for the doppelganger, just to make Damon pay. I mean, he did _literally_ tear my head off. A little bit of overkill, if you ask me." He points at her then, and mocks sincere curiosity. "You think he'll cry over you at all or just throw himself into keeping Elena safe? I mean, it's a toss up, right? Elena is his be all, end all. But you… _You_ were his beacon of hope at the end of the dark tunnel. You made him think there was something left in him worth saving. So, yeah, sure, I bet he'll cry. Shed a good tear or two for reliable little Bonnie before he gets back to his day job of guarding Elena. That's enough though, right? At least he _cares_."

He mocks a sad face and Bonnie lifts her chin, refuses to let him see the hurt lancing through her.

She doesn't know what Damon will do. Curse her name for lying to him and attempting to do this all on her own. Rant and rave about how of _course_ Bonnie got herself killed, it was all she ever did these days. He'd have her buried in the cemetery between her Grams and her father, pour a little bourbon on her grave, take Miss Cuddles along with him for a while, eventually bury her in a box in the attic somewhere and think back on Bonnie with vague fondness over the years. Another mile marker in a long life.

It shouldn't hurt.

She knew what they were before they were anything.

She'd prepared for that. Told herself not to get her hopes up because it couldn't go anywhere. He was — _is_ — Elena's and he always will be. And that's okay. _It's okay, it's okay_. Because Bonnie doesn't need to be wanted or loved, not when she's always _needed_. Which she is. She's always needed when something goes wrong. When someone rolls into town with a new vendetta, a new score to settle, a new target to paint on Elena's back.

Resentment bubbles on her tongue, mixes with the acrid taste of bile, and she swallows it down. She tilts her chin up, stubborn as ever, and raises an impatient brow at Kai.

He ignores it, wanders closer, but then away, to the side, like a little dance of two steps forward, one step back.

"You talk too much," Bonnie tells him, and then she thrusts a hand forward, her fingers twisted and bent.

A burst of power hits him square in the chest, throwing him backwards, ass over head, to roll across the dusty ground. He groans and laughs, and then gets his knees under himself and pushes up to stand. Dusting himself off, he pivots, then takes on a pitching position, like they're in a game of baseball. He winds up and throws—

Bonnie feels something hit her left shoulder, like an invisible dagger. It pierces her shirt and her skin; blood sprays down her chest. Grunting, she turns narrowed eyes on him.

Kai grins. "I was in Little League." With that, he throws another and another.

Bonnie dodges one, but the second hits her in the thigh. It feels like a burn now. A patch of her jeans lights open. She smacks at it with her hands; when the flames die away, there's a hole, with singed and smoking denim marking the edges. Her skin is raw and blistered, oozing in places, and she breathes through her mouth so she doesn't have to smell burnt flesh. It hurts, enough that her vision darkens around the edges for a second. But she presses on.

Rage boils up inside her and she waves her hands, twisting them at the wrist, before thrusting them forward.

Kai flies up into the air, arms and legs waving around, before he's abruptly brought down to Earth. He lands hard, the ground seeming to quake under him.

Bonnie walks toward him, one leg dragging a little. She flicks a hand and he goes from laying on his stomach to sprawled on his back. And then she holds her hands out, fingers pressed close together, and lowers them.

Kai flattens on the ground, an invisible weight pinning him down. He grits his teeth and glares at her before thrusting a folded fist toward her, the length of his arm leaves a trail in the dirt.

Bonnie feels skin tear open on her stomach, and a gush of warm blood spills down, soaking through her shirt and dribbling down her jeans. A cracked cry leaves her, but she shakes her head and keeps her attention on Kai.

"You _deserve_ this," she says, her voice trembling. "After everything you put me through. Put _everyone_ through. Killing you is a mercy to the rest of the world."

He grins, amused. "You keep telling yourself that, Bonnie. Late at night, after Damon sneaks away from your latest booty call, you curl up in a little ball and tell yourself that killing me was the right thing to do. Scrub your conscience clean and sleep easy."

Her mouth screws up and she shakes her head. "Your coven took pity on you. They sent you to the prison world because they couldn't do what they needed to do."

"My coven didn't want blood on their hands. They were _weak_. Just like you are." He kicks his legs, heels digging into the dirt, trying to push himself up. "I was the _freak_. The unwanted. The black spot on their perfect record. So, they got rid of me."

"You _murdered_ most of your family!"

"They deserved it." His expression is flat and unfeeling. "What was it you said to Damon? That at least when you were playing with Expression you _felt_ something. You were in control. You had the whole world at your fingertips and nobody could take it away from you." His eyes spark. "They wanted to take everything from me. It was my _right_ to lead the coven. Jo couldn't match me; she was the weaker twin. They took what was _owed_ to me."

"Because you're a power-hungry psycho that would only end up destroying the whole coven." She shakes her head. "I turned to Expression because I was overwhelmed. I was _lost_. I had nobody."

"You still don't. Look around, Bonnie. You're the only one here. And you know why?"

"I chose this. I—"

"Did you?" He stares at her searchingly. "Or did you do it because you knew this was where you'd end up anyway? If Damon can't kill it, Bonnie needs to fight it. Even if it _kills_ her. Better her than the rest. _Right?_ "

Her throat tights and her burn, tears sparking at the corners. "You don't know them."

"I know _you_." He laughs, cold and humorless. "You think victims are born? No. Victims are _made_. And you? You're the perfect victim. Always willing to throw herself on the fire. A martyr. Because at least if you die saving them, they'll _remember_ you."

"Stop."

"Otherwise, where you do fit? Huh? Caroline's got Stefan. Damon's got Elena. Even Tyler has Liv. But you… You're the odd one out. Put away in her little box until something goes wrong and they need you to swoop in and save them. And when it's over, where do they go? Back to each other."

"Shut up!"

"You're an answer to a problem, Bonnie. When life is going well, the phone stops ringing. You're not _needed_ anymore."

She snarls through gritted teeth, "You don't know _anything_."

"Why do you think I needed to use Damon to spark your powers? Because you're a tool. You only light up when someone that _matters_ is at risk. You would've let yourself wilt and die there if I hadn't come along." He tips his head curiously. "Or maybe you didn't _want_ to get your powers back. Maybe some part of you was happy to spend the rest of eternity with Damon. Is that it?" He smirks. "'Cause that's _pathetic_."

Bonnie comes to a stop right next to him, staring down at his amused face, something dark and dangerous pooling in his angry gaze. " _I_ matter."

"Maybe." Kai's face twists up right before he thrusts his arm out and wraps a hand around her ankle. "But who cares?"

Bonnie cries out as she feels her power being _torn_ from her. Like a knife to the heart, she feels herself being drained, carved of everything she is and has. Head tipped back, she draws in a deep breath and pushes past the pain. Even as it ripples through, making every inch of her skin burn, every nerve ending sing with agony.

"Kai," she chokes out.

He grins up at her, smiling blissfully. "Hm?"

"You know what… what I learned from Expression…?" She turns her head down to glare at him. "Too much power _kills_."

His brow furrows.

And then Bonnie's lips start moving rapidly, wrapping around every Latin syllable with ease. A reckoning. That's what this was. Bonnie's well earned _reckoning._

He tries to pull his hand away, tries to yank himself free, but he can't. He physically can't remove his fingers from around her ankle. He's forced to _take it_. Take _all_ of it. Every inch of her power.

She raises her arms and calls out to nature, to The Balance, to her Grams and her ancestors. She calls to them all and she asks them to give to her what only they can. The ability to destroy him, completely and totally.

The sky turns dark above her, swirling and storming, black and grey clouds rolling over each other, blotting out the sun. Rain spills to the ground, turning the dirt beneath them into a thick, viscous mud. In the distance, she hears a rumbling noise, and chalks it up to thunder. Nature has heard her, and it's answering. Lighting sparks; snapping at the ground without mercy. A house catches fire. The dry field of grass starts to smoke. Air whips all around her, making her hair lash her wet cheeks. Trees sway and rattle, banging against her each other, branches snapping and clapping.

When Bonnie turns her gaze back to Kai, she sees true fear for the first time. Veins stand out across his face, dismally grey, squirming like life-sucking worms stuck beneath his pale skin.

"You can't kill me," he chokes out. "My soul—"

Bonnie bends so she's crouched in front of him. "Your soul needs a body to return to. When I'm done, there won't be one." She smiles and reaches down to scrape her finger along the thin, red line across his neck. "You might be able to fix a severed head, but you can't make a body out of dust."

His eyes widen and he grits his teeth at her. "You can't do this. You _can't_ —"

"I told you." She stands then, an avenging angel staring down a defeated demon. "You don't _know_ me."

"Bonnie—"

She throws her hands out and closes her eyes. She draws in a deep breath, full of smoke and fire, earth and water, and she feels the power of it all. Of the Bennetts. Of the slain Parker's. Of the Earth itself. It funnels through her, lights her up from the inside out.

"You won't… _survive_ … this," Kai growls.

And he might be right.

It's too much.

Too much to channel. Too much to have. Too much to use.

But she doesn't care.

No, that's not true. It's that she _does_ care. For her friends and the world and a life she hasn't and can't have. For the Bonnie Bennetts out there, just trying to make it, day to day. For the little girls that grew up desperate to fit in, to be loved, to be wanted. For the daughters and sisters and mothers that sacrificed themselves, every day.

Maybe this was her inevitability. Maybe all those times she just scraped by, or was brought back to life, it was all so she could be here, to fight this one last fight. She would have her victory, her revenge, and it would be _beautiful_. For every Kai in the world, there was a Bonnie, and she was the proof that her kind would prevail. If she was weak, if she was pathetic, if she was the lesser of the two, then so be it. She would rather be her than him.

Besides.

 _Blessed are the meek; for they will inherit the earth._

She doesn't feel particularly meek right then, but it's the principle of the thing.

Kai's hand squeezes her ankle and a scream tears from his throat, hollered to the heavens, denied, and sent back to Hell.

A beam of light tunnels down from the stormy sky to strike her chest, and Bonnie feels it. The end and the beginning.

Sound stops. Everything goes completely quiet.

Pain abandons her body. She is a weightless feather, floating.

Her lungs stop expanding. Her heart quits beating. Her veins freeze.

She is not life nor death, but something else entirely.

 _she is_

* * *

 _(Bonnie is 4 years old. She stands on the sidewalk just in front of her house, watching the tail lights of her father's car grow smaller as he drives away. She stands on the tips of her toes and waves and waves until she can't see the lights anymore. She does this every time he has to leave town for work. He promises he'll have more time next week. They'll see a movie; go out for lunch; do something fun. He always promises that._

 _Grams finds her there. Puts a hand on her shoulder and gives it a shake. "Come on now, Bonnie. Let's go inside. We can read that book you like."_

 _Bonnie nods and takes Grams' hand, walking next to her toward the house._

 _But she looks back._

 _She always looks back._

 _She hopes he does, too.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is six years old, sitting on park bench, a melting ice cream cone in her hand. She's watching Elena smile and nod at something Miranda is saying. She's leaning against Miranda's hip, Miranda's fingers running through Elena's hair lovingly. Bonnie wonders if her own mother has a new daughter. A new family. If she ever wonders what Bonnie is doing. If she ever misses her._

 _"Your ice cream's melting."_

 _Bonnie blinks, and turns her head to see Matt Donovan standing in front of her. His pants have mud stains on them from the dirt clod war he and Tyler got into earlier. His shoelaces are untied and his shirt is untucked. He stares at her ice cream like he's starving, and his stomach gives a great, gulping rumble._

 _She can feel wet drops of ice cream landing on her hand and her wrist. She looks at it, half-melted, with the sprinkles sliding down the edges. Shrugging, she hands it toward him. "You want it?"_

 _"Are you sure?" He's licking his lips and his fingers are twitching at his sides, but Matt's nothing if not polite._

 _Bonnie shrugs. "I'm not hungry anymore."_

 _"Okay!" He takes it and devours half in one bite._

 _She laughs. "You're gonna get brain freeze."_

 _"Am not," he says, ice cream and sprinkles spattering his chin._

 _He does._

 _He hands her back the cone while he rubs his hands against his temples and groans in pain._

 _Bonnie shakes her head, waits for him to stop, and then hands it back over. "You shouldn't eat so much or—"_

 _He takes another big bite and blinks at her. "You wanna bite?"_

 _Her nose wrinkles. "I'm okay."_

 _He grins, and sinks back against the bench, kicking his legs absently. "Who're you looking at?"_

 _"Nobody," she mutters._

 _"Missus Gilbert is nice," he tells her. "She brings food over to our house sometimes. Just casseroles and stuff. It's pretty good."_

 _"Yeah?" Bonnie looks from him over to where Elena and her mother are standing. "What about your mom? Is she nice?"_

 _Matt frowns and stares down at the ice cream. "She's okay."_

 _With a hum, Bonnie sits back and folds her hands in her lap. "My mom went away when I was really little."_

 _"Did she come back?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Oh."_

 _They don't say anything for a while._

 _And then Matt reaches over and takes her hand, folding their fingers together. His is sticky, wet with runny ice cream and melted sprinkles. But Bonnie doesn't shake it off. She holds on until he's ready to let go. That's not until his mom finds him and tells him they have to head hoe. When she sees him at school the next day, she brings him some of her Grams' homemade cookies. He breaks one in half and shares it with her. She decides then and there he's going to be her best friend forever.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is ten years old._

 _"I'll be home this weekend. You got everything for staying at Sheila's?" Rudy has another conference out of town._

 _Bonnie doesn't bother telling her dad that most of her stuff is at Grams' at this point. "Yeah."_

 _"Okay. You need anything before I go?"_

 _Bonnie pushes her spaghetti around on her plate and shrugs._

 _Rudy sighs. "Bonnie, I won't be able to do anything when I'm gone. So, if there's something you need, speak up."_

 _"I'm gonna join junior cheerleading with Caroline. I need to pay for the uniform."_

 _"How much?"_

 _"I don't know. Caroline didn't say."_

 _Rudy sighs. "I'll call Liz, find out from her."_

 _Bonnie pokes at a meatball. "Miranda Gilbert was on the cheerleading squad growing up. She said mom was, too."_

 _Rudy's fork stops moving through his dinner._

 _"Do you think—?"_

 _The phone rings, and he stands from the table abruptly. "You should get cleaned up. Sheila will be here soon," he tells her before he walks off to the phone._

 _Bonnie stares at her barely-touched dinner and sighs._

 _Later, her dad calls his goodbye from the door while she's still sitting at the dinner table. She doesn't go out to watch his car leave. She pokes at her food until Grams comes to get her. She doesn't ask her Grams about her mom or if she liked cheerleading. She doesn't bring up her mom again.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is fourteen._

 _"You need a boyfriend," Caroline decides._

 _Bonnie frowns. She doesn't really like anybody. Not right now. She used to kind of, sort of, have a thing for Matt, but, well, he and Elena keep smiling at each other._

 _"What about Tyler? He's cute." Caroline scrunches up her mouth. "Kind of immature, but I heard he's a_ great _kisser."_

 _Bonnie shakes her head. "I don't really… I mean, Tyler's my friend, but…"_

 _"Yeah. Dating friends can be weird. Plus, we all have to hang out, so…" Caroline walks to Bonnie's closet and starts looking through it, tossing out what she deems as 'unwearable.' Which, so far as Bonnie can tell, is_ everything _. Caroline lists off all the boys in their grade and a grade above. Apparently, dating anyone younger isn't cool. Not that Bonnie wants to date someone younger. Or older, for that matter. She just doesn't see why dating is such a big deal right now. Caroline's already had three boyfriends and, so far, Bonnie can't see the appeal. Most of them are jerks._

 _"Bonnie!" Caroline snaps. "Are you even listening to me?"_

 _"What? Sorry."_

 _Caroline rolls her eyes. "I'm trying to save you from complete social suicide here. You need to date or you'll become that weird hermit girl that has no friends and no social life."_

 _Bonnie grins. "Tell me how you really feel."_

 _Caroline softens. She tosses a shirt aside and walks over, flopping down on the bed next to her. "I know you think I'm being weird and over-the-top, but I'm worried about you. I mean, you don't have to date the whole football team or anything, but… Don't you want to date_ someone?"

 _"Sure. Eventually." Bonnie shrugs. "But honestly, we grew up with these people. I've seen most of the boys in our glass eat_ paste _. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."_

 _"Not really…" Caroline snorts. "But what are the chances some mysterious hottie moves to town?"_

 _"To Mystic Falls? Unlikely."_

 _"Exactly!" Caroline pushes off the bed then. "Okay, so on a scale of 1 to 10…"_

 _Bonnie just shakes her head. She loves Caroline. She really does. But she's not exactly sure how to tell her that boys just don't look at her like they do Caroline and Elena. Bonnie is different. Part of that probably has to do with living in small town Virginia and being one of the very few black girls around. Racism still lives. And while Bonnie feels like she's doing okay and surrounded by good people, it doesn't mean she hasn't felt the stares or heard the whispers. She stopped wearing her natural hair when it became a little too much and ever since, she's felt a little like she was living under a microscope. But Caroline won't get that, so Bonnie doesn't say it. She just rates the boys in their class and knows she's not going to date any of them. At least it keeps Caroline from digging. For a while, anyway.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is sixteen years old._

 _Elena can't stop crying, or blaming herself._

 _Bonnie doesn't know what to say or do, so she just holds Elena while she cries and grieves and asks 'why why why.' Why her parents? Why not her? Why her family?_

 _Bonnie has no answers, even though she's asked similar questions herself. Having a mom that left by choice is a little different from having one taken from her. She doesn't voice that, though. She's not exactly sure which is worse, but she knows that's not what Elena wants to hear._

 _Elena just wants to be held, to be told it's okay, that it's not her fault. So, that's what Bonnie does. She wipes away Elena's tears, rubs her back, and tells her 'you'll get through this.' It's not much, but it's what Grams says to her on bad days that only seem to get worse._

 _Elena eventually cries herself to sleep, and Bonnie stays. She waits. Because eventually, Elena will wake up, and she'll need someone to be there._

 _Bonnie volunteers herself for the job.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is seventeen years old._

 _Sometimes she doesn't see her dad for months at a time. He calls, but she's started to realize she's an afterthought._

 _She tries not to think about her mom too much. It's an open wound she pretends is long closed._

 _Vampires are real._

 _Witches are real._

 _She_ is _a witch. So is her Grams._

 _Life as she knows it gets turned on its head._

 _Suddenly, Elena is always in danger._

 _Stefan is simultaneously an ally and a threat._

 _Damon is a threat. A danger. An enemy. He's a monster. It's easier to hate him, to blame him, than to admit that part of what's gone wrong is on her, on Elena, on all of them for prioritizing one person above the rest._

 _Bonnie does it, too. Tells herself it's right, it's okay, it's ELENA._

 _Elena matters._

 _Elena needs her._

 _Bonnie's not sure what she can do or should do, but she knows that she will stretch herself thin, to the very limits of her unexplored abilities, to keep Elena alive and well.)_

 _._

 _(Grams dies._

 _Grams DIES._

 _And Bonnie is trapped. In her grief and misery and pain._

 _She floats on a sea of shock and anger, feels it sink into her veins and spread through her, feeding into a dying, dulling heart._

 _Forgiveness feels like stabbing herself with the blade of her own loss. But she does. She forgives Elena and she tries to forgive Stefan. She also tries to kill Damon. Tells herself this is how it should be. Witches and vampires are sworn enemies, and he is hers._

 _Her enemy._

 _Her nemesis._

 _The dark to her light._

 _The yin to her yang._

 _He is blood and she is water._

 _Water that becomes fire and eats away the decay of his heartless tirade._

 _Bonnie drowns in a swamp of self-righteous sacrifice. Her feet are stuck in quicksand; it pulls and drags and consumes her._

 _She is lost.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie knows love for the first time. Jeremy Gilbert._

 _She knows pain in the same heartbeat. Anna._

 _But she forgives._

 _She forgives, forgives, forgives._

 _Because it's always asked of her._

 _Be the bigger person. See the bigger picture. Throw yourself into the fray so the others might live._

 _Die, die, die._

 _You aren't worth the fight._

 _You aren't worth anything._

 _Did Joan of Arc die happy? Content? Loved?_

 _Will Bonnie?_

 _No._

no no no _)_

 _._

 _(Abby returns. Bonnie tries not to hope, to want, to need._

 _She does anyway._

 _Abby can't stay._

 _Won't stay._

 _Bonnie tells herself she always knew that was coming._

 _Her mother knows running better than parenting._

 _It's a familiar concept.)_

 _._

 _(Abby turns._

 _Bonnie is both relieved and revolted._

 _What seemed like a chance at getting her mother back has turned ugly._

 _Doesn't it always?_

 _In a strange way, hope still grows._

 _Until Abby runs again._

 _Bonnie knows she shouldn't be surprised._

 _Even with an eternity ahead of her, Abby can't spend a second of it on her own daughter._

 _Bonnie laughs._

 _She laughs until she cries.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is Expression._

 _She is Power._

 _Invincible._

 _Control._

 _Strength._

 _Bonnie_

 _is.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie dies._

 _She is empty._

 _Invisible._

 _Lost._

 _She is Surrender._

 _'Let it go._

 _Let me go.'_

 _I already have.)_

 _._

 _(When Bonnie was a little girl, she watched his headlights disappear in the distance._

 _When she is still too young, she watches the light fade from her father's eyes._

 _She screams._

 _No one can hear her.)_

 _._

 _(Damon is the one to bring her back._

 _Not an enemy, not quite a friend either._

 _Damon who fights for her more than anyone has before._

 _Damon who doesn't give up, not until she's back. Until she's whole._

 _Until she breathes.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is the Anchor._

 _Pain._

 _Tearing agony._

 _Is this her punishment? Is this her new Hell?_

 _There is no reprieve, no rest._

 _She is a tool._

 _Always._

always, always, always)

.

 _("This place is going down, isn't it?"_

 _"It is..._ _I'm sure there are a million people we'd both rather be with right now, but…"_

 _Her hand, once a fist ready to fight, unfurls and finds his. Their fingers fold together, palm to palm._

 _"Couple thousand at most."_

 _She laughs._

 _Their eyes meet across the divide, in a world of blue, a light growing in front of them, wind blowing in from every direction._

 _"Do you think it'll hurt?"_

 _She holds on tighter._

 _So does he._

 _"I don't kn—")_

 _._

 _(The world is empty save for them._

 _A skeleton of a town she once knew, trapped in a different time._

 _When Damon isn't drunk, he takes pleasure in annoying her._

 _She can't help but take some comfort in it. At least she isn't completely alone. At least he's there. At least there's another voice, another body._

 _Some days he's miserable, and she forces herself to be cheerful, to balance out his defeat somehow._

 _Some days she just wants to cry. Crawl into one of his many bottles and drown in a sea of bourbon._

 _He drops the Monopoly box in front of her then. "I'm banker."_

 _"You'll cheat."_

 _He doesn't deny it._

 _He doesn't deny a lot._

 _On the really long nights, the ones that don't seem to end, he'll lay with her in front of the fire, on a bed of pillows, a bottle of liquor between them, and he'll tell her everything. Every good and terrible thing he's ever done in his life. Sometimes she listens. Sometimes she comments. Sometimes she just falls asleep to his voice._

 _She talks, too._

 _Sometimes he listens. Or complains. Or pretends he doesn't care._

 _But he does._

 _He does care._

 _She knows he does._

 _He has to._

 _They're all each other has.)_

 _._

 _("We're never getting out."_

 _"Give me your ring."_

 _"What?"_

 _She grabs at his arm, glares at him and holds it steady as he tries to tear it away. "Give me your ring." He wrestles to pull his arm free, but she holds on. "All I've heard you say is that there's no hope, and that this is_ your _hell! So, if it's so bad, why don't you just end it?"_

 _He pushes her back then, and she stumbles three steps away._

 _"Hope is the only thing keeping me going, Damon! So, if you're really done, if you have none—" She slams her hand against his chest and shoves. "—then_ be _done. 'Cause this isn't helping.")_

 _._

 _(Damon pins Kai to the wall and warn him, voice dripping with the promise of violence, "We might be having a bit of a disagreement but don't_ ever _lay a hand on her.")_

 _._

 _("Let's get awkward." He tucks his hand under hers, the ascendant in her palm. "Like this?"_

 _"Yep."_

 _"I'm sure there are about a billion people you'd rather be here with."_

 _Bonnie's voice is shaky with emotion. "Not exactly." She looks up at him, eyes bright with hopeful tears. "Let's go ho—"_

 _An arrow hits her hard in the guts, and she's thrown back, landing on the ground with a pained grunt._

 _Kai grins from behind a crossbow. "Forgetting someone?")_

 _._

 _(Damon is pinned beneath Kai against a jagged rock. "Bonnie… get… out of here…"_

 _"I'm not going to make it…" Tears fall from her defeated eyes. "But you are." Her expression hardens. "Modus!"_

 _Suddenly, he's not pinned, and the ascendant is heavy in his hands. "No…"He stares at her, too far away to get to. " **No!** "_

 _She stares at where he once stood, empty now, and feels her heart die.)_

 **.**

(" _You have magic again." Her smile is forced and false. "Good for you."_

 _"I also have the ascendant."_

 _"Doesnt matter,_ y _ou need a Bennett witch to do the spell."_

 _"About that. I've watched you do the spell twice now... I don't think I need a Bennett witch to do the spell. I think all I actually need is Bennett blood."_

 _He shoves a knife in her guts and watches her crumble._ )

 _._

 _("It's probably a waste of time even recording anything. But Damon... Elena.. whoever... if you find this and you figure out how to work this stupid thing, please tell everyone I'm sorry. Tell them that I tried. I really tried to make it work._

 _"Um... You know, I just miss too much. I miss saying 'hi' to strangers. Ordering dinner in a restaurant. Laughing with my friends... But, um, spending every day here alone, with no one to talk to, going weeks without speaking... It's just the loneliness, it's, uh, I can't take it... And I only know one way to turn it off._

 _"I'm sorry.")_

 _._

 _("Stay strong... that's something my Grams said. Stay strong.")_

 _._

 _(The world is somehow the same and completely different when Bonnie finds her way home._

 _It's too loud and too quiet. Too big and too small. Too full and too empty._

 _Caroline and Elena, Matt and Jeremy, they all look the same. But Bonnie feels so distant from them now._

 _They didn't see what she saw. They didn't feel what she felt._

 _They didn't know Kai's terror and wrath like she did._

 _When she gets back, Damon tells her Kai is gone. He's dead. She can rest easy._

 _But she can't believe it. It's too easy. And her life has never been easy.)_

 _._

 _(Can you ever really love someone you once hated?_

 _Bonnie doesn't know._

 _She's seen the best and worst of him,_ experienced _it first hand. She should hate him. Hell, some days she does._

 _Other days… Other days she's not sure what it is she feels._

 _The fire in her belly that was once hellfire and rage, that would simmer at the mere thought of him, that would spit like lava and tempt her to committing murder, it became something else. Not butterflies. It's flower petals the color of fresh blood. The pain can't be completely ignored or forgotten or forgiven. It's there. It festers when it chooses to. But there is something else, something more, that warms her skin and swells her heart and makes her lungs sting, her breath caught in a moment of awe._

 _The devil was an angel once, fallen though he may be._

 _Damon reminds her of that._

 _When she lays in her bed, his head between her thighs, and lets a sharpened tooth drag along fragile flesh. When his fingers tangle with hers, pinning her hands to the bed, palm to palm. When his lips move against her neck, atop her pulse, leaving kisses so soft, she's not sure she hasn't imagined them. When he bends her over her kitchen counter, pushes her jeans down to mid-thigh and sinks into her from behind, leaving finger-shaped bruises on her hips that are slow to fade. When his hand folds around her neck and he holds her still as he fucks her, the other hand sunk between her thighs, teasing her until desperate tears collect in her eyes. When he folds himself around her in the middle of the night, sleeps with his ear pressed to her heart, and taps out the beat as she drifts away. When he snarks and argues and refuses to back down. When he pushes and pulls and still, she's always the same distance away._

 _He is far from perfect. He is a novel of red, corrective ink. He is frayed pages and torn binding. His life, his choices, his mistakes leave lasting effects on everyone he meets._

 _She is a lifeboat with a hole in it. An anchor that drowns in the sea while everyone else remains steady above. She is both the calm and the storm, and while she screams that she will not be tamed, she cries. Bittersweet tears that go unnoticed and uncared about._

 _Bonnie is not the love of his life._

 _She is not the love of anyone's life._

 _She is not._

 _She is_

 _nothing.)_

 _._

 _(Bonnie is a daughter without a mother._

 _Without a father._

 _A granddaughter without a Grams._

 _She is a friend without a Caroline._

 _With too much of an Elena._

 _If she were a bird, her wings would fail her, nine times out of ten._

 _If she were a cat, her lives were long used up._

 _Bonnie is neither bird, nor cat._

 _She is a witch without a coven._

 _A Bennett without a family, weighed down by a legacy._

 _She is a heart without another._

 _She is_

 _without.)_

* * *

A bright white light. The world is not so blue here. The field of burning grass is gone. There is no Kai at her feet. No storm above her head.

Bonnie stares ahead, above, and feels no pain, no fear, no uncertainty.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

She turns her head, see Grams at her shoulder. "Ask what?"

Grams' face is sad. She reaches for Bonnie, brushes her fingers over her hair and her cheek. "If it will hurt."

Bonnie shakes her head. "I can take it."

"Oh, baby…" Grams sighs. "I think you've had enough pain to last a few lifetimes."

"Is it over now?" Bonnie wonders.

Grams steps in front of her, blocks the light from burning her eyes. It makes her glow. She puts a hand beneath Bonnie's chin and lifts it, stares her square in the eye and says—

"You tell me."


	2. devotion

**warning(s)** : sexually suggestive ; language ; violence  
 **rating** : high teen / mature  
 **word count** : 12,640

* * *

 ** _if you love me (don't let go)_**

* * *

It's not a mistake.

Damon is more than familiar with what a mistake feels like. He's made so many, they might as well be his default setting.

But this—

 _She_ is not a mistake.

* * *

( _"Do you think you would've been happy as a human?" Bonnie asks one night, a month into their forced cohabitation in, what he considers to be, Hell._

 _They're laying next to each other on a makeshift bed of pillows she's spread out in front of the fire. She's taken to sleeping downstairs instead of in one of the many rooms. Damon chalks it up to a growing dislike for distance. Even when he annoys her, she continues to hang around. It's the loneliness. There's too much of it, and they only have each other. So, they take what comfort they can._

 _Arm tucked behind his head, he stares at the ceiling. "I was a piss poor human… My dad could've told you that."_

 _"Why?" She turns over onto her side to face him, her cheek perched on her hand. The fire is bright at her back, making her silhouette stand out._

 _"I was_ weak _. Didn't have a head for business or a stomach for war. Didn't care for politics and I wasn't interested in settling down, not back then. Not before Katherine…"_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Nosy tonight, aren't you?"_

 _She shrugs unapologetically._

 _He sighs, long and heavy. "Before Katherine, I thought all marriages were like my parents. And the last thing I wanted to do was become my dad."_

 _"But something changed." She stares at him searchingly._

 _He frowns, turns to look at her. "What makes you say that?"_

 _She raises a brow at him. "Damon, you're desperate for commitment."_

 _"Hey! 'Desperate' is a little much…"_

 _She grins. "You are. Katherine, Elena, I mean, you devote your life to whoever you love. Even Stefan."_

 _"Well, I promised him a lifetime of misery," he says casually. "I had to keep my word."_

 _"Uh-huh." She rolls her eyes. "Anyway… I think you're wrong."_

 _"Oh? What about?"_

 _"I think you'd be a good human. You don't know how strong you really are until you have to be. Doesn't matter if you have magic or fangs. Eventually, something happens, and you have to make a choice. Either you face your fears and you do something, or you don't, and you live with the consequences."_

 _"So, you're saying you think I'd come through in the end? Ride in on my white horse and save the day?" He smirks at her teasingly. "Who knew you were such a romantic, Bon-Bon."_

 _Snorting, she shakes her head. "Skip the white horse. It's clichéd. All I'm saying is that… your instinct is to protect people you care about. So, vampire or not, I think you would."_

 _He hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. And then he says, "But the wrinkles. And the grey hair._ Bleck _."_

 _Bonnie laughs. "I don't know. Salt and pepper looks good on some people."_

 _He wiggles his eyebrows at her. "Yeah?"_

 _"Mmhmm." She shrugs then, and turns onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "Guess we'll never know, though."_

 _His good-humor fades as he turns thoughtfully. "Guess not." )_

* * *

He lasts two weeks.

He's not exactly a man of self control.

Fourteen days after Bonnie comes home, alive and a little broken, he just needs to see her. They've spent just about every day together, but this feels different.

He doesn't mean to kiss her.

( _but he doesn't regret it_ )

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Bonnie scrubs the heel of her palm against her eye and then squints at him. "You're not drunk, are you?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet. Why? You got anything to drink?"

She laugh-snorts. Crossing her arms, she leans in the doorway and looks up at him. Her hair is sleep-mussed. He doesn't have to see her living room to know she was probably curled up on the couch, trying to sleep through whatever shitty infomercials were playing. She doesn't sleep so great lately. He knows because he has the text messages to show for it. Around two, three, four am, she starts texting him to see what he's doing. If he's sleeping, she gives up. So, he turned the volume up loud enough to wake him. If she wants to talk, he'll talk.

Reaching out, he tugs at a loose curl dangling at her cheek. "Couldn't sleep. Feel like some company?"

She eyes him thoughtfully. "Usually you sleep like a baby. What's up?"

He shrugs. "House is too quiet."

Between him, Stefan, and Caroline, there's no heartbeat. Just ticking clocks and whining wood. Listening to Bonnie's heart was soothing. Comforting. At least if she was close, if he could hear it, he knew she was okay. She was real. She was _back_.

"Is this a hint you want a CD of whale sounds for your birthday?"

His mouth cracks into a grin. "You got one lying around?"

She juts her chin up. "Maybe I do."

"Yeah? You seem more like a soothing jazz type of person. Nina Simone or something. I can see that." He nods at her, and then lets his finger trail down the soft curve of her cheek. " _Doncha know no one alive can always be an angel?_ "

Bonnie hums, stares up at him curiously. " _But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good…_ "

His heart lurches in his chest then, and his good humor fades. This was a bad idea. This was tempting fate. Playing with fire.

"I should go." He shakes his head. "I, uh… Yeah. I should—"

She reaches for him, pulls at his shirt. "Wait."

It doesn't take a lot to stop him. He could've kept walking. Could've untangled her small hand from where she holds him. But he doesn't. Instead, he turns back. And without a word of explanation, he's kissing her. Hands cupping her cheeks, mouth slanting over hers so quietly, so gently, he almost thinks he's dreamt it up. His breath leaves him; trembles against her lips. And he waits for it. For the shove at his chest. For the spark of tears and anger. The ' _what are you doing?'_ edged with horror and pity. But it doesn't come.

Bonnie's hand loosens and then tightens against his shirt. She doesn't push, she _pulls_.

He stumbles into her, chest to chest, pressing her against the doorjamb, one hand braced above her head to keep them steady. The other falling from her cheek to her shoulder, thumb stroking over bare skin.

Seconds and minutes pass. The fear that she might come to her senses fades. And all he's left with is a moment.

A _hope_.

The pillow of her lips beneath his and the strength of her fingers keeping him close.

He leans back just enough to press his forehead to hers and _breathes_.

Distantly, he can hear an infomercial playing in the living room. Louder than that is her unsteady heart. His hand settles atop her chest, not to quiet it, because he likes it. He likes that her heart is knocking a too-quick beat against her ribs. That his excitement is being sung somewhere, even if it's not in his own chest.

There are places that words should be said. Where declarations are made or questions are asked. Where answers are searched for, even if they're not what you want to hear. There are moments where the tension breaks and the bubble pops and reality creeps back in, bringing with it the shadowy reminder that some things are not meant to be. Not _deserved_.

This was probably one of those.

This was probably when life should have knocked, demanding entrance.

Instead, Bonnie's hand slides down his chest and hooks in his belt. She pulls him inside, and he grabs for the door handle, swings it closed behind him. They climb the stairs to her bedroom, without pause or question. As she stands, facing the bed, he's at her back. He catches the end of her tank top and pulls it up and over her head, tossing it away. She's not wearing a bra, just a loose pair of denim shorts. His hands fall to her hips as he ducks down and presses a kiss to her neck.

And she leans back, falls against his chest, and takes a deep, shaky breath.

She tips her head and looks up at him from soft eyes, dreamy and content.

This isn't how it usually goes for him. The rejection comes first. Then the dogged pursuit. The insistence that he's worth taking a chance on; worth turning your life upside down and inside out for.

But there's no Stefan here. No better option. Nobody standing in between them.

Except Elena.

A ghost of a girl and a relationship that has long since run its course.

It's not that he doesn't love Elena. He does. He always will. Just like he still loves Katherine in some distant, not-quite-healed part of himself. But at some point, he realized he wasn't right for Elena. That he brought out a part of her that was better left hidden away. And she does the same to him.

Damon's never much liked the idea of _growth_ , probably because he wasn't very good at it. He's petty. He holds grudges. He has a hard time moving on or letting go. But there are days… days when he makes the right choices. When he thinks before he acts. When he puts others before himself. He does that more with Bonnie. And maybe that's not healthy. That he's only better when someone demands it of him, when someone's there to witness it. But he likes to think he's making progress. That deep down, under all the scar tissue, all the mistakes, there's a person in there that he can be proud of.

And maybe she can be, too.

Damon's had sex. He's had a _lot_ of sex. He's buried himself in it as an easy escape. Sex, blood, and bourbon; a broken man's coping mechanisms. There's a difference though, between sleeping with some he cares about and sleeping with someone to escape. Sometimes they blur together. Sometimes, he escapes in people he loves. Buries himself in their focus and love and _want_. And sometimes he finds someone else completely, to avoid the pain and hurt of loving someone he can't have.

He's not escaping anything here. He's not running. He's _connecting_.

Maybe it's too soon. Maybe they should've talked before it got to this point.

 _(maybe maybe maybe)_

He's not thinking of consequences, not clearly. They're there. In the peripheral. The gaping reminder that, come morning, things will change. _They_ will change. Maybe for the better, maybe not. But right here, right now, in this moment… She is his. And he is hers.

He's going to _be_ hers for a long time.

Because Damon is nothing if not devoted. And when he finds someone, when he falls for someone, everyone and everything pales in comparison.

His hands slide down the slope of her shoulders, drift along her sides and over her hips. He unbuttons her shorts and pushes the fabric away, denim sliding down her thighs to pool on the floor, leaving her in black, cotton underwear. He rubs his thumbs along the waist, listens to her heart skip a beat, and then sweeps his hands up along her stomach and her scar and her ribs, settling them just beneath the swell of her breasts.

She covers his hands with her own, fingers overlapping, and leans forward, towing them a few more steps toward the bed. When her knees brush the edge, she stops, and turns. His hands fall aside as she grabs up the end of his shirt, tugs on it enough that he's brought forward, their hips bumping. And then she's lifting it up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor behind him. Her palms flatten against his chest and drag down his body, taking their time, fingers spread wide.

She looks up at him as she unbuttons his jeans, and he stares back. Moonlight is filtering in through the open curtains, casting her in a cool blue glow. He's reminded of The Other Side, life behind them and death ahead.

A precipice.

He leans down and kisses her then. And he means it. He really, _really_ means it.

* * *

( _They're been trapped in an empty 1994 for two months._

 _Damon is ninety percent sure that he has perfected the art of pancakes._

 _Bonnie is a hundred percent sure she's gained five pounds._

 _"That's just the price you pay for a foodgasm." Damon lounges in a chair in the living room, one leg hanging over the upholstered arm, the picture of lazy._

 _She rolls her eyes. "You need to work on your technique before it gets anywhere_ near _—"_

 _"You eat them, don't you?"_

 _"Yes, Damon, because every morning, I wake up, I come downstairs, and here you are, putting a plate in front of me. It'd be rude—"_

 _"Admit it… you like it." He grins at her and wiggles his eyebrows. "The fangs, especially."_

 _"What I_ like _is not having to cook in the morning… And the fresh orange juice… Plus, your coffee isn't half bad."_

 _Damon's smile widens. "And my company."_

 _Her nose wrinkles cutely. "No comment."_

 _He laughs, deep from his chest, and stacks his hands on his stomach as he stares up at her. "Domesticity doesn't look half-bad on you, Bon-Bon."_

 _She rolls her eyes and turns on her heel to leave. "I'm not the one with a 'Kiss the Cook' apron."_

 _"An offer you still haven't taken me up on…" he calls after her. Left alone, he shrugs. "Your loss."_ )

* * *

They don't talk in the morning, and Damon's not sure what that means. He's not sure what she's thinking or what she feels. He knows she makes waffles and bacon and coffee for breakfast. That she talks about everything except the fact that they'd spent the night wrapped around each other. She fishes a bag of blood out of the freezer for him, adds it to his coffee like she does her cream, and passes it over to him with a smile.

Damon's not good at the 'what are we' conversation. He feels off-kilter. He was expecting her to bring it up. Her to be the one in need of a label and some boundaries. But she isn't. And he's not sure if that's good or bad. He is sure that she doesn't protest when he lifts her up onto the kitchen counter, pulls her underwear down her legs and eats her out. She willingly falls to her knees in the shower later and takes him into her mouth. She happily climbs into his lap in the car, when they're halfway to the boarding house, and just laughs when he has to pull the car over abruptly as she sinks down on him. This is a Bonnie that's free and open and completely in control of her sexuality. It's beautiful.

Which is why he's a little afraid to rock the boat. Enough that he doesn't say anything for the three months that follow. Three months of him showing up to make dinner without calling ahead. It becomes such a norm that on the few nights he doesn't, she texts to ask him where he is, she's hungry. As far as Damon's concerned, they're dating. He's not holding her hand in front of their Misfit Toy Squad of a friend's group, but he figures that's just one of those unsaid boundaries.

But it's a thing. It's a _real_ thing.

It's not even all sex. Sometimes he comes over just to hold her, to listen to her heartbeat while they linger in that space right before sleep. On the few days they don't have some strange, supernatural issue to deal with, they'll curl up together on her couch and watch whatever she's got stored up on her DVR. When she's on her period, he'll run her hot baths and bring her chocolate and only make fun of her a little when she cries at any commercial or YouTube video that's even mildly sentimental.

He's not a _complete_ idiot. He can tell there's a wall erected here. Bonnie is keeping something back, some part of her that she's not willing to dedicate to whatever it is they're doing. He knows his history with women is patchy, at best. He's loved two women before her and they have the same face. Both relationships weren't exactly made of puppies and rainbows. But there was something there. Something about each of them that fed into a part of him (maybe his daddy issues, or his mommy issues, or his many other issues) and latched on tight.

But he's let go.

He's _letting_ go.

* * *

( _When Damon gets back from the prison world, he feels like he's stuck on a see-saw of delirious relief and gut-wrenching guilt. He has his brother back. There are people everywhere. He's no longer stuck in the void that 1994 offered. In the same breath, however, he can't stop thinking of Bonnie. Is she dead, alive, running for her life? What is Kai doing to her? What is the emptiness doing to her? Because he knows it too well. He knows what it's like to spend days or weeks with nothing and no one. Bonnie was the only thing that kept him sane over there. Damon might complain that he likes his space, but he's a social creature when it suits him. If it wasn't for her, he's not sure how long he would have lasted. If at all._

 _And that doesn't even touch on how guilty he feels that he's back and she isn't. What kind of cosmic joke is that? Bonnie, who deserved a hell of a lot better than she's ever gotten, is once again the one that lays her life down for another's. He should be taking notes on this whole empathy and sacrifice thing. Only not, because he admires her courage and her strength, but there needs to be a line between helping people and constantly dying for them._

 _He's drunk. He'd like to blame that on the glaring fact that Elena doesn't remember him, nor does she want to, but the fact is, Damon sucks at coping. On every level. So, there's the guilt thing with Bonnie, the abject disappointment over Elena, and the resentment he feels toward any number of people for this whole situation to begin with. Himself, for not getting Bonnie out. For making her the Anchor in the first place. For putting her in a position where she had to die and become the anchor. For everything that happened with Elena that made her so dependant on their relationship that his death meant she was unable to cope. That his brother, so distraught over his death, pulled up roots and took off, putting distance and pain between him and the only best friend he had left. For Liz, one of the few friends he has, dying of cancer, with no way to save her. He's a walking cure for just about everything that ails a person. His blood has the ability to give people a chance at forever, and he can't save one small town Sheriff from biting the big one._

 _It's a clusterfuck. Of epic proportions._

 _So, he drinks._

 _He drowns himself in a bottle of bourbon and he makes shitty, terrible, misshapen pancakes while he does it._

 _Caroline walks into the kitchen, her nose screwed up with distaste. "Gross. What are you even making?"_

 _He looks up, a bottle in one hand and a spatula in the other. "Nothing. Don't you have your own place?"_

 _She rolls her eyes. "Stefan called. He told my mom she could borrow some books. I guess she's been reading more, since she's effectively house-ridden. Anyway, he's not here, and I don't know where he put them. And then I smelled the fire hazard coming out of here, so…"_

 _"Have you tried looking in the_ library _?" He flips a pancake and scowls when it lands awkwardly, half of it folded under._

 _"Most of Stefan's books are first editions. I can't imagine him leaving them where others could find them. I just…" She shifts awkwardly. "I don't want to go in his room when he's not here."_

 _"Why? Nobody's up there. Worried you're going to find Ivy 2.0 taking a nap?"_

 _She scowls at him. "You're a dick."_

 _"Yes. Thank you for noticing." He scrapes at the grill, trying to flatten the pancake out again._

 _"Oh my God…" Caroline mutters as she circles around the island and hip-checks him out of the way. "Should you even be doing this when you're so drunk?"_

 _"I'm perfectly capable of making pancakes. I am an_ expert _pancake maker." He lifts a finger off the neck of the bourbon bottle to point at her. "These are Bennett approved flapjacks."_

 _"Yeah, somehow I doubt that." Caroline gets the misshapen pancake off the grill, tosses it pointedly into the garbage, and then grabs up the batter. "This is kind of thick. What kind of ratio did you use of—?"_

 _Damon reaches past her and grabs the batter, putting it down out of her reach. "Never mind. I don't need cooking lessons. All I wanted was to make a few pancakes and—"_

 _"And what? Drown out your grief?" She stares up at him, her brow furrowed. "That's it, right? You were going to eat some soggy, gross, probably burnt pancakes, raise your bourbon in cheers to Bonnie, and then pass out on a plate of syrup."_

 _He glares down at her. "So what if I was?"_

 _Caroline frowns. She takes a deep breath, squints at him a moment, and then sighs. "All right, listen. I don't know what happened over there. I don't know why Bonnie is suddenly so important to you, and I don't think I_ want _to know._ But _… I've gotten pretty good at mourning lately. I know what it feels like to bury your best friend. Not once, but twice. And I'm preparing to do the same to my mother. So, just… Hear me, when I say this." She stares at him searchingly. "Drinking yourself into a coma is doing nothing for anyone. You're not the only one hurting or missing her. Put the bottle away and do something constructive. Because throwing yourself a pity party is doing exactly nothing for you." She steps back then, turns on her heel, and starts for the door._

 _Damon watches her go out of the corner of his eye. Once the kitchen door swings closed, he turns away. Her words sink in, past the misery and the bourbon, and he finds himself turning the grill off and dumping the leftover batter out. He and Caroline might not be what anyone would call 'friends,' but she made a good point, and he was going to act on it._

 _He leaves the bourbon behind on the counter and walks out into the hall. He's on his way to the front door when Caroline spots him._

 _"Where are you going?"_

 _He glances at her, and flashes a smirk. "I'm taking your advice, Barbie. I'm gonna do something constructive."_

 _Caroline's eyes narrow. "Okay… Which means?"_

 _His expression shifts. "I'm gonna get her back._

 _She swallows then. "We don't even know if she's alive."_

 _"Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving her over there."_

 _"If this is about Elena—"_

 _"This is about Bonnie." He turns, grabs for the door and swings it open. "Only Bonnie." )_

* * *

It's late. Too late for phone calls. But Damon's been through enough of these to know that if someone's calling at this hour, it's only bad news.

He's at Bonnie's. He's taken to spending more nights at her house, in her bed, than he has his own. When he picks up the phone, he barely gets out a grunted ' _what?_ ' before Elena's frantic voice is telling him something happened. That Kai— _Kai_ —was there. He'd attacked her and she was on her way to the boarding house now.

Half-asleep, Damon is stuck on the part where she said Kai— the same asshole that he'd _decapitated_ a week before Bonnie came back from the prison world— was somehow alive and kicking.

If he's being honest, Damon takes off for two reasons.

The first is that the instinct to save Elena is something that's so familiar to him, he doesn't question it. It's not right or fair and he'll have to work on it, but he's not thinking about that in the moment. He might not be in love with her, but he does care about her. She was a significant person in his life, and he's still used to putting her first.

The second reason is he's hoping Elena's wrong. Because if Kai really is back, a storm of problems is right at his heels. The last thing Damon wants or needs is a pissed off Bonnie Bennett going off half-cocked on a vengeance kick. He knows Kai hurt her, damaged her in ways she's still working through, and she deserves justice for that. But there's no way in hell he wants her anywhere near that conniving little psychopath. If it was up to him, he'd put her in a car, hand the keys to Caroline, and tell her to take Bonnie as far away as she can get until the whole thing is resolved.

That isn't what happens.

When he gets to the boarding house, Elena is fine. She's gnawing on her lip, hugging her arms around herself, and looking no worse for wear.

"What the hell happened?" he demands, stalking into the parlor.

"Where _were_ you?" Elena up from the couch to face him. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't at the boarding house?"

Stefan's brows arch, but he says nothing, merely pouring himself and Damon a glass of bourbon.

"You first. What the hell is this about Kai?" His face screws up. "Kai is _dead_."

Elena shakes her head. She sinks back to the couch and runs a hand through her long hair. "He isn't. I saw him. He was _taunting_ me. Like it was some kind of game."

Caroline sits forward, dressed in Stefan's bathrobe, perched next to Elena. "Are you sure it was Kai? Maybe it was just someone that _looked_ like him. Or, you know, maybe you've just been really stressed and—"

"I know what I saw!" Elena looks between all three of them. "He was showing off, trying to prove a point or… I don't _know_. But I know it was him." She stares up at Damon. "You have to believe me. I know what I saw."

Damon blows out an agitated sigh and downs his glass of bourbon.

"Where was this?" Stefan asks. He's sitting in an arm chair across from them, looking at Elena with that patient, gentle face of his.

"Not far from my apartment. There was this thing happening at Mystic Grill. An after-hours party." She shakes her head. "I just needed to blow off some steam. Finals are coming up and I've been struggling a little."

"Makes sense," Caroline says comfortingly.

Impatient, Damon waves a hand. "Get to the point."

Elena frowns at him. "I needed to decompress. I figured the party would help. I'd have a few drinks, talk to some people, forget about school for a while. So, I went, and I was having fun, everything was going great. I recognized a few people from my classes and…" She laughs. "We played beer pong. Honestly, I felt more like myself than I have in a while. There was no vampire stuff, no magical hiccups, _nothing_. I was just a normal college student doing normal college things…"

Damon has taken to pacing from one end of the room to the other.

Elena shrugs. "Anyway, it was getting late, so I thought I'd head home. I texted Matt; I figured the rest of you were sleeping. He was on patrol, but he said he could swing by, make sure I got home safe." She smiles gently. "I told him it was fine, I wanted to walk. It was a nice night out. I liked the fresh air."

Caroline smiles encouraging and pats Elena's arm. "Then what?"

"Then… Then, the next thing I know, Kai is standing in the middle of the street. There's nobody else around. It's just… It's _empty_. And at first… I don't know. I thought maybe I'd had too much to drink or I was just imaging it. Stress, you know? But then he starts whistling. It was so _creepy_." She looks between Caroline and Stefan, her shoulders bunched up. "I was going to run. Why tempt fate? But then the garbage bin next to me just _exploded_. Literally, it just burst into flames. And then there was another explosion across the street. And it was just… It was like he was playing target practice. He was making finger-gun motions and winking and I got out of there. I'm fine, really. But I'm telling you… He was sending a message."

The room goes quiet for a moment, tension filling every corner, and then Damon snaps. "It was dark. It could've been anyone."

Elena rolls her eyes. "It was _Kai_."

"I took his _head_ off," he emphasizes.

He can remember, in stunning clarity, how good it felt to separate Kai's smarmy head from his shoulders. It had been building up from the first moment they met. Kai was crazy, sure, but he was also dangerous. A constant threat. And, if Damon's being honest, he held a grudge against him for getting out, getting back, while Bonnie was still trapped in 1994. Maybe there was a little transference happening there, since he resented himself for getting out, too. But at least he'd tried to get Bonnie back. Kai just seemed to find the whole thing _amusing_. So, sure, killing him was a gift to the rest of the world. But, more than anything, it was for Bonnie. When she came back from the prison world and he learned the extent of the trauma she'd suffered at Kai's hands, he sometimes regretted he didn't make Kai's death longer and more painful. But it was done. It was over with.

"There's no damn way he survived that," he grits out through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and angry. "I killed him. Fair and square. You can't grow back a _head_."

"I don't know _how_ , I just know what I saw," Elena insists.

"You were drinking, you said it yourself."

"I'm a _vampire_ , Damon. I burned off whatever buzz I had. I didn't just _dream_ it up. If you don't believe me, go into town. The garbage bin is probably still on _fire!_ "

Damon's mouth twists up.

"It's not that we don't believe you," Stefan says, ever the mediator. "It's just difficult to see how Kai could be back. I was there when Damon killed him. I'm not saying resurrection is impossible. We've all seen it happen. Bonnie is a prime example—"

"Yeah, except Bonnie had people that helped bring her back!" Damon exclaims. "If there was a loophole, I'd know about it!"

"How do we know Kai _didn't_ have someone bring him back?" Caroline wonders, looking between them. "He has family. He was part of the Gemini coven. I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but they could have killed him in 1994, instead, they sent him to a prison world… _Why?_ "

"What _idiot_ would bring him back to life?" Damon throws his hands up.

"I don't know." Elena shakes her head. "But I know he _is_."

Damon is a thousand percent over the entire Kai issue. Which is only part of why he's relieved when Bonnie shows up at the boarding house and quickly gets things moving. He's not entirely willing to believe Kai is back, but better safe than sorry. With Bonnie locking the boarding house up tight, they're safe for the night. They can get down to brass tacks tomorrow.

Caroline frowns in the direction Bonnie has gone in before turning to Elena. Her face softens and she reaches out, squeezing Elena's shoulder before she stands from the couch. "I'll make up a guest room for you," she offers.

Damon snorts. "Glad to see you're making yourself at home."

Caroline's eyes narrow at him. "Well, someone has to, seeing as you're hardly around anymore. Remind me again, when was the last time you spent the night here…?"

"Why?" He grins darkly. "Miss me?"

Caroline scoffs. "Hardly."

Before Damon can say anymore, Stefan casts him a quelling look, and then crosses the room, taking Caroline's hand and drawing her toward the stairs.

Damon rolls his eyes, and returns to the drink cart to refill his glass. He downs that one quick and refills it for a third time. He taps his finger against the glass, letting his ring knock against it with a loud _clink_. He doesn't like this antsy feeling. Waiting for Kai, or whoever, to spring up and attack them.

"I was surprised… when I got here and you weren't anywhere to be found."

Pausing, Damon looks back over his shoulder. Elena's standing now, her arms hugged around her waist. He eyes her quickly, and then hums. Stepping back from the cart, he turns to face her properly.

"So, what Caroline said, about you not staying here as much…"

Damon directs his gaze to his glass. "Wouldn't want to interrupt her and Stefan's little love nest."

" _Oh_. Are they…?" Elena cuts herself off, shakes her head, and sighs. "Never mind. Look, I— I've been meaning to talk to you. It feels like ever since you got back, we've been… I don't know. Getting our wires crossed or something."

"Nothing to get crossed." He looks up at her. "You're living your life, Elena. You moved on."

"It's not really that simple, is it?" Her brow furrows. "Just 'I get it, no hard feelings'? Like none of it mattered?"

His lips flatten together. "It mattered."

"Wow. Past-tense." Her brows arch. "I guess that's my answer."

"Aren't you dating that Leo guy…?" He shakes his head. "The male nurse or whatever."

"He's pre-med. He wants to be a doctor, too," she corrects. "And yeah. _Yes_. We've been dating. Tentatively. It's not… It isn't set in stone."

He stares at her. "What is this?"

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"This. _You_. Are you… You quizzing me? Trying to find out what I want? What are you doing?"

She looks startled. "I'm asking about your life. Am I not allowed to do that?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"Your intentions." He stares at her searchingly. "When I came back, you didn't remember me. You didn't _want_ me. As far as you were concerned, I was a monster. One you were happy to bury."

"That was _before_."

"Yeah, I get it. Without any of the good memories, the idea of loving me must've been crazy to you. All the things I'd done, the people I'd hurt. Frankly, I'm surprised you gave me a chance even _with_ the good memories…"

"I forgave you."

"Yeah," he scoffs. "You did. Even the stuff you shouldn't have. The stuff that had nothing to do with you. The stuff _I_ didn't forgive myself for."

Her brow furrows. "Where is this coming from…?"

Damon licks his lips and eyes her thoughtfully. "When you finally decided you wanted your memories back, what did I tell you?"

Elena stares at him a beat, and then shakes her head slowly.

"I said you should leave it alone." He waves his hand, sloshing his drink around in his glass. "The me I was with you, the you I made you into, it wasn't right."

Her chin raises then, defensive. "You didn't _force_ me into someone else."

"No, but being with me, loving me, it… It _affected_ you. It pulled back the curtains and revealed parts of you that it shouldn't have."

Elena swallows tightly. "What does that _mean?_ "

"It means you're better off without me. It means we're toxic, _both of us_ , for each other."

Tears quickly collect and she hugs her arms around herself a little tighter. "But I remember. I remember now. _All_ of it."

"I know. So do I." He sighs, his expression softening. "The good times were good. And I'm not gonna lie, you got me through a part of my life I probably wouldn't've survived. Everything with Katherine, when my switch was flipped, I wasn't a good person. I was… _chaotic_. An asshole. And I hardly deserved your friendship, let alone anything more than that."

She nods, squeezing her eyes closed when a few tears dribble out.

Damon reaches for her, a hand steady on her shoulder. "I don't know Liam. I don't know if he's any better for you. But I do know that you deserve someone good. Someone that makes you better, not worse."

She bites her lip as her mouth trembles, and then nods, a few more tears slipping out. "This is h-hard," she chokes out. "I wasn't… I wasn't expecting…"

He nods. "You know if you ever need me…"

"Yeah." She reaches up and scrubs her hands over her face before offering up a stilted, forced smile. "I think I'm gonna get some sleep. It's, uh, it's been a long day."

"Sure."

She lingers a moment longer, like she's hoping something will change. But then she turns, and leaves, and she doesn't look back.

Damon breathes out a heavy sigh, and then dips his drink back. It burns on the way down. Instead of refilling it, he leaves the empty glass on the cart. He wanders over to the armchair and slumps down into it, staring at the fire. It's a little while before Stefan joins him, taking a seat in a chair across from him.

"So?"

Damon glances at him. "So."

"Kai is back."

"Yeah." He lets out a long, heavy sigh. "Apparently."

"What's the plan then?"

Damon frowns, and turns to look at him. "Plan?"

"The last time you killed Kai, you thought Bonnie was gone for good. There was no getting her back. So, you poured yourself into revenge, and you got it."

"I thought I did." He purses his lips. "I don't get it. How does he come back from that? What's the point in killing someone if they aren't going to stay dead?"

"I imagine more than a few of our enemies have said the same of us."

Damon sighs, and slumps down into his chair. "She's not going to leave it alone."

"Who? Elena?"

" _Bonnie_." He stares at the flickering fire. "What Kai did to her… He terrorized her. Stabbed her and left her for dead." He shakes his head. "She was on the verge of killing herself, fed up with hoping any of us were coming."

"I'm not making excuses for him. He's clearly a sociopath. But is this thing, this hatred you have for him, about him or you?"

Damon scowls. "Excuse me?"

"You got out. You came home, and you couldn't get to her. You couldn't bring her back… I know you said you killed Kai for her, but maybe some of it was because of your guilt."

"Thanks, Dr. Stefan, these counseling sessions are really _helpful_. Seriously, A+ work you're doing here."

Stefan sighs, exasperated. "We both know your relationship with Bonnie has been rocky. It took you a long time to find common ground. And when you did, you were forced to abandon her with someone you were sure would kill her… That kind of thing has an effect."

"Okay. And?"

"Have you told her?"

Damon raises an eyebrow. "Told her what?"

"That you're sorry. That the thought of losing her, of leaving her behind, _hurt_ you. That if you could do it over, you would've found a way to get you both out. That she _matters_ to you."

He scoffs, sitting up a little taller then. "She knows I care."

"Does she?"

He glares, his expression sharp and offended. "Of _course_ she does."

"Sex and expressing sincere feelings for someone are two different things," Stefan tells him calmly. _Knowingly_.

Damon blinks, a little dumbfounded.

A faint smile upturns the corners of Stefan's mouth. "You thought I didn't know?"

"I thought you were too distracted by your Caroline bubble."

He hums, eyeing Damon curiously. "You never answered my question."

Damon lets out an exasperated sigh. "Bonnie knows I care about her."

"Because you've done such a good job of expressing it."

His eyes narrow. "What's the supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just… Elena calls and you come running. Presumably from Bonnie's."

"And?"

" _Without_ Bonnie."

He frowns.

"And now, knowing full well that Kai is on the loose, you're here, safe and sound. While Bonnie—"

Damon sat up abruptly, his eyes wide.

He couldn't hear her heartbeat. Nowhere in the house was that familiar, steady—

"Where is she?"

Stefan stares at him a beat, thoughtful. Before Damon can snap at him, he answers, "She didn't want to stay. She said she'd be fine."

"You let her _leave?_ " Panic and worry bubbles in his chest.

"I have no control over what Bonnie does or doesn't do. She's fully capable of making her own choices."

"Are you _crazy_?" Damon pushes up from the chair. "Bonnie's the most sacrificial person I've ever _met_. If she thinks Kai is out there—"

"She'll what? Take him on, one on one?" Stefan shakes his head. "She doesn't even know where he is."

"She'll _find_ him." With an angry groan, he stalks toward the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"To find her… and drag her stubborn ass back here."

Stefan frowns. "Damon, you need to respect her choices. If Bonnie—"

He whirls around to face his brother, who's following at his heels. "You were right. I didn't tell her how much I care. Because when it comes to feelings, I'm a constipated _idiot_. And the last thing I want right now is to tell her that I love her just to hear her say she loves me too, but not like _that_. Because let's face it, my record with romance isn't exactly _encouragingly_. And Bonnie has every reason not to take a chance on me. All I've done, from the moment I walked into her life, is ruin everything and everyone she cares about. So, I take what I can get until she chooses to move on."

Stefan takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. The look that crosses his face is all too pitying, and Damon shakes his head and walks away from it.

He has a witch to find.

* * *

( _Damon is eighteen when his mother dies. If he's honest, he's not sure how he feels. Grief that he's lost her, that the only parent he has left is Giuseppe. Relief that she isn't suffering, that at least one of them is out from under Giuseppe's thumb. Resentment that it's her and not himself. Anger, too, that he's been left behind. It's not her fault that she's died, but that doesn't keep him from wanting to blame her somehow. As years pass and he lingers in the house, more to keep an eye on Stefan than anything, he can't help but wonder if things would be different if she were still alive. On his more enlightened days, he knows they wouldn't. She was just as much a victim as the rest of them._

 _Still, the loss of his mother highlights a gaping hole in him. With only an angry and disappointed father to play parent, it seems his worst traits are all that are -noticed or highlighted. Where once he had a mother who would tell him he was loved and cared for, even if she couldn't stop in front of him and stop the abuse his father hurled, at least her words kept him warm. Left to only Giuseppe's devices, he craves the opposite. Craves love and adoration, a calm and gentle hand, a supportive voice where there has been none._

 _Katherine steps into his life when he is at his lowest. The war has left him torn and rattled. He was not made for battle and the sight of so much death turns his stomach. People he once talked to, laughed with, line the ground, grey and lifeless. Their organs trail from them like confetti. Bones and blood spill out of split skin, like a dolls that have burst at the seams. All he wants to do is run and hide, and so he does. He defects, runs home, and buries his shame and trauma in a woman that twists him up and pulls at his tangled strings. He tells himself it's okay that she wants his brother, too, so long as she wants him, loves him, needs him._

 _Katherine makes promises of strength and power, of forever, and the possibilities balloon inside him. All his life, he's been a victim to his father's wrath, his anger, but if he turns, he will be the predator, and his father the prey. If he turns, he will never have to fear death. And Katherine—beautiful, perfect, cunning, Katherine—she too will live forever. Not like his mother. Not like all the other hapless women out there, walking toward an end date. It seems a perfect solution._

 _Until it isn't._

 _He loses Katherine and every notion of perfect._

 _He turns at Stefan's insistence and the world he knows tumbles down a rabbit hole he will never quite crawl out of._

 _His brother is a Ripper, and Damon… He isn't sure what he is._

 _Perhaps the only apt description is 'lost.'_

 _He's not sure he's ever really found. )_

* * *

Damon spends the rest of his night looking for Bonnie. He drives around town searching for any signs of an impending apocalypse, because with his luck (not to mention Bonnie's), she's probably gotten herself locked into an epic fight with Kai. _Somehow_ , crisis is averted for the evening. All he finds is a burned-out garbage bin, basically confirming Elena's confrontation with Kai.

Damon is tired, worried, and not a little pissed when he finally thinks to check Sheila's house and finds her car parked out front.

He's not going to lie. After the night he's had, his oh-so-enlightening conversation with Stefan, and the very obvious fact that Bonnie is distancing herself from him, he's not in the best mood. Which is why, when she pushes to stay exactly where she is, making it clear she'll see him at noon and no earlier, he's ready to call it a day. He wants to crawl into bed, get a few hours of sleep, and then reconvene the Scooby Gang for a 'how are we going to set Kai on fire' war counsel.

He's also clearly not in his right mind. Because he should have known she was going to give them all the slip. Maybe he's just gotten used to playing partner and trusting that she'll turn to him when she needs help. Maybe he put too much stock in his own importance when it comes to taking on the Big Bads that come calling. Or maybe he wants so desperately to believe that she wouldn't put herself at risk like that again that he doesn't see the warning signs.

But later, when he's had a chance to really reflect on it, he'll realize how _stupid_ he was to walk away believing somehow, things would just turn out right.

They deserve that, don't they?

They deserve a break from all this _shit_.

But when have they ever really gotten what they deserved?

* * *

( _H_ _e finds her standing in the doorway to her father's room, unwilling to go in, but clearly thinking of him. He imagines she has a lot of 'what ifs.' What if her mom hadn't left? What if her dad spent more time with her? What if her Grams hadn't died? Would she be happier? Would her parents still be there? What kind of person would they have shaped her into? One that didn't run around with vampires and throw herself onto whatever grenade wanders their way? Or maybe this was just who she was. Maybe, at Bonnie's core, she is who she is, and nothing and no one can change it._

 _"Hey."_

 _She startles. Right before she pastes a smile on, he can see it. That deafening loss that still chokes her when she lets it in._

 _"Hey. I, uh…" She shakes her head and swallows tightly, skimming a hand over her cheek. "I didn't know you were coming over."_

 _"Yeah, well, I take an invite as an open-door policy." He searches her face for a moment and then holds a hand out. "C'mon. I'm thinking Italian."_

 _"You're always thinking Italian." She rolls her eyes affectionately and crosses the space between them, folding her hand into his._

 _"That's because I have good taste." He taps the end of her nose and smiles as she scrunches it up. "All right, Bonnie Flay—"_

 _She snorts._

 _"—where do you wanna go?"_

 _"You're going to let me choose?" Her brows hike. "You? Who judges every place based on how expensive the cheapest wine on the menu is?"_

 _He feigns offense. "Are you calling me a_ snob? _"_

 _"Absolutely."_

 _Laughing under his breath, he nods, and directs them to the stairs, where he waves her forward to walk ahead of him. "All right. Point taken. But I promise, you pick the place and I'll hardly complain."_

 _"Hardly?"_

 _"Powdered sauce, Bonnie. I won't do it."_

 _"Uh-huh. Anyway, I was thinking of that place we went to last month, with the piano?"_

 _"Oh, I see… You just want to dance."_

 _Bonnie grins at him over her shoulder, and he's relieved to see it's genuine, and the sadness of earlier has mostly faded. "I'm not opposed to it…"_

 _"Fine. But I can't be held responsible for my smooth moves."_

 _Snorting, she pulls the door open and crosses the porch. "Just don't step on my toes, Derek Hough."_

 _He frowns. "Who the hell is that?"_

 _"Dancing with the Stars!"_

 _"You know I fall asleep whenever that comes on."_

 _"I know you_ pretend _to be asleep." She smirks. "We both know you like it."_

 _Damon stares at her a beat and then huffs. "Fine. You couldn't at_ least _go with Val or Maksim?"_

 _Bonnie laughs. "I'll re-evaluate after dinner."_

 _When they reach the car, he pulls her door open for her. "That's all I ask." )_

* * *

Tyler isn't a hero. Or that's not what he thinks of himself as. He's not like Matt, who dons a badge and a gun and walks the streets of Mystic Falls, completely and totally aware that he is as human as they come. He's not like Stefan, who, more often than not, puts himself between danger and its victim. And he's really not like Bonnie, who jumps headfirst into the thick of things, sacrificing herself time and time again.

Tyler is selfish. He knows this. He's grown up privileged in a lot of ways. He's also grown up with an asshole for a father, who knocked him around more than praised him. But he loved his dad. Even when his father did nothing to deserve it, he was still, well, _his dad_. Before shit went sideways and the town became some kind of weird beacon for everything wrong, Tyler's life was okay. Minus the anger issues and his dad's temper. It was survivable… _ish_. He hid a lot of things. Buried his pain in arrogance and the flash of a smirk. Everybody's got daddy issues, right? Anyway. He was tough. He got through it. Some days he even misses his old man.

The thing is, Tyler learned early that it was easier, even smarter, to look out for yourself first. Because nobody else was going to. Not his dad, not his mom, not even his friends. Not always. Sometimes they can't, and sometime they won't. The point is, there are times when you have to look at one cataclysmically fucked up situation and just say, 'Nope. I'm out.' And he has. He's looked at the screwed up shit that Damon and Stefan have dragged them all into and he's thrown his hands up and just walked away. _Not his problem_. But then there are other times. When he stays and he fights and he stands in front of someone he loves so they won't take the hit. Because he's stronger, he can take it better.

( _he can take it, he can take it_ )

Tyler loves Liv. Maybe it's some fledgling thing that won't go anywhere, or maybe this is that epic love that changes his life. He's not sure. What he does know is that when Luke goes missing and Jo starts calling to warn them that Kai's back, he feels that fear trickle down his back. That warning that he should go, _run_ , get as far as he can. And he wants to. He wants to take Liv and put Mystic Falls in the rear view. But they need to get Luke first.

There's a part of him that doesn't care. That doesn't want to go back for Luke, because what are the chances Luke would go back for him? He knows that's just that selfish part of his brain talking again. The part that's kept him alive all these years. But he looks at Liv, crying and desperate and so damn worried for her brother, and suddenly everything else takes a backseat.

Tyler's an only child. He's never had a brother, older or younger, to teach him things or learn from him. The closest he's come is Matt and Mason. He'd lay his life down for either one of them, any day of the week, and he knows they would do the same for him. Or would have, if Mason was still alive.

( _the bitter taste of betrayal stings his mouth_ )

That's half the reason he's relieved when Bonnie shows up. Bonnie's always got a plan, usually at her own expense. She's the first to fight and the last to lay down arms.

So, Bonnie's got a plan, hope blooms in Liv's eyes, and Tyler decides hell, maybe being a hero isn't the worst thing.

His heroics are short-lived. They get Luke up off the floor of some burned out house that hasn't seen life in a good decade. They're not even to the SUV when there's a shift in the wind. A pressure that knocks a trembling sense of fear down his spine. Tyler's known fear. Too much of it, frankly. When his dad's booming voice used to echo through the house, he'd find himself hiding in his closet or under the bed. Until he got older, and angrier, and tired of hiding. There are other things, other people, other moments where he's known real fear. But nothing compares to seeing the rage in his father's eyes, the spittle flying from his lips, and wondering if that was going to be him one day.

Kai is not Tyler's father. But danger wafts from him like a blaring, red sign.

Bonnie waves them off. "Go."

All Tyler hears is—

 _I can take this._

He's known Bonnie since he was a kid. She's always been different. A little because she stuck out, sitting in a sea of white, and a lot because she's just one of those people. With that smile and inherent kindness, how couldn't she? But nice people get stepped on. Pushed out of the way. Trampled in the search for freedom. He wishes he could say he's never turned his back and let the world drown her, but he has. He did. _He is_.

They get Luke into the back of the SUV and then he's jumping in the driver's seat. It says a lot, he thinks, that Kai hardly blinks. His focus is on Bonnie, like he's known this was coming. _She_ was coming.

"We should go back," he says, even as he shifts nervously in his seat, eyes darting from the road ahead to the rear-view mirror.

"We _can't_." Liv looks from him to Luke, her expression sad but resolved. "He'll kill us."

Tyler feels his heart pound in his chest.

He isn't a werewolf anymore. He doesn't have the added strength or speed or the ability to heal. He's human. As human as Matt. Only Matt wouldn't have run. He wouldn't have left Bonnie behind. Because—

Because he's _Matt_.

And Tyler is Tyler.

He isn't a hero.

He isn't.

( _I'm not_ )

He digs his phone out from his jeans, muttering ' _fuck, fuck, fuck_ ' under his breath as he goes.

His first instinct is to call Matt.

Matt who has a veritable armoury in the back of his truck. Matt who would stand at Bonnie's side until the very last breath. Matt who would lay down his life if it meant keeping his friends and the town safe.

That's not who he calls.

Because Matt, much as he wants to help, is still too human. Too vulnerable. Too _alive_.

And if Tyler's being honest, he knows that calling Matt means burying Matt, which he isn't ready to do.

Damon picks up on the second ring. "Don't tell me, Boy Witch has wandered home, safe and sound."

"No. But we found him. You were right, Kai's been sucking his powers dry. He's unconscious, but alive."

"And you called because I _obviously_ wanted an update…"

"No. I'm calling because we didn't find him on our own." Tyler grinds his teeth. Interacting with Damon, _trusting_ Damon, isn't easy, "Bonnie showed up, said she knew a way to track him down and—"

"Where is she?" Damon's voice loses its snarky humor and turns icy.

Tyler squeezes the steering wheel a little too tight. "Is Caroline with you?"

" _What?_ Try to focus here, Kibbles n' Bits. Where the hell is Bonnie?"

"I'm getting to it. Is Caroline there or not?"

Damon sighs and then—

" _Hey!_ What the hell?" Caroline shouts.

Stefan's irritated voice follows, "Jesus, Damon, you can't just barge in here—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're sleeping together. Nobody cares," Damon dismisses. "All right, Lockwood, you're on speaker. Caroline's here. Now get to the point."

"Care, you remember the old housing complex, the one we had that big party at when we were, I don't know, fifteen, sixteen years old. The one—"

"My mom broke up," she interrupts. "It's on the edge of town. There's an off-road just past the bridge that'll take you up to it. What about it?"

"Kai was keeping Luke there, in one of the houses. We got Luke out. But Kai showed up and Bonnie—"

"She stayed." Damon's voice hardens, before he curses, and a crashing noise follows.

Tyler rolls his eyes to the ceiling of the SUV. "You still there?"

"Get dressed," Damon grits out, presumably to Caroline. To Tyler he says, "How far are you from her?"

Shame bubbles up in his stomach. "We're in town. Headed to the highway."

"How long has it been?"

Tyler glances at the clock on his dash. "Not long. A few minutes."

Damon sighs. "All right. I'll take care of it."

Before Tyler can say anymore, the phone disconnects, and Damon leaves him to guess (and hope) that things will turn out right. He drops his phone in the cup holder and glares at the road ahead.

"She'd understand," Liv says, her voice quiet.

And Tyler wants to laugh. Because she's right. Bonnie would forgive him. She always does. She forgives all of them. For putting her second or third or last. For giving up on her. For walking away. For leaving her behind. For—

He swerves abruptly to the left, swings the SUV around, and comes to a crooked stop in the middle of the road.

" _Tyler!?_ " Liv's gripping her seatbelt, looking at him from wide eyes.

"I can't do it again."

"Do _what?_ "

"Run. _Hide_." He takes a deep breath and then pushes his foot down on the gas pedal. "When I was ten years old, my dad hit me so hard I had a black eye. I couldn't go to school for a week. They'd ask too many questions… Bonnie brought me my homework, every single day. She sat with me, walked me through every damn question, and yeah, when I was ten, that was the _worst_. The one good thing to come out of it was that I wouldn't have to do homework. But Bonnie, she was just trying to help."

Liv looks confused. "Okay…?"

"That's all Bonnie ever does. _She helps_. If it wasn't for her, Luke would still be stuck there, a prisoner to whatever fucked up plan Kai had. But instead, he's here. He's with us. He'll _live_. But Bonnie? She won't. Because we just left her with a homicidal _psychopath_."

"Kai is too strong. He's too _powerful_. Tyler, please. I know my brother. He killed half my family. He'll kill us, too. You can't—"

"I can't leave her behind. I _won't_."

Liv stares at him from tearful eyes. "He will kill _all_ of us."

"If I'm going to die, it's going to be for the _right_ thing." He stares at her searchingly. "She's my friend. She doesn't deserve this."

Liv slumps back against her seat, turning worried eyes out the window.

But Tyler doesn't have time to convince her. He's made up his mind, and that's all there is to it.

* * *

( _Damon falls in love with Bonnie slowly._

 _It sneaks up on him._

 _That strange pressure on his heart that tells him she matters even when he doesn't want her to. That he'll miss her long after her human body is frail and grey and buried far away from where he is. When he's putting her in the trunk of his car after a blow-out with Klaus in Alaric's skin. When he searches the island for her because he can't just leave her behind. When Jeremy tells him she's gone. She's not coming back. Except, she's still there. A ghostly little visitor, lingering, waiting, hoping. When he's pushing Katherine, his first love, down to meet the unforgiving bite of Silas. When he's got a dying Amara in his arms and he just needs her to hold on a little while longer, just until he can get the witch back. When he's holding Bonnie's hand, staring at the great white light, and there isn't a million other people he'd rather be with. Actually, it feels like it was always headed there. Just them, at the end of the line. When the world is all but lost. When life has given up on him and them and everything else in the prison world. When she's the only voice he hears, the only heartbeat in an otherwise empty house. When she's just a little too tipsy on bourbon and she's singing along to his favorite 90's music. When she comes back, all thirteen times. When she sends him home and lays there in the dirt, bleeding and in pain. When she comes home. When she comes to him. Of all people. Of everyone in her life. After four months of being sick and tired of him... She finds him first._

 _The thing is, he doesn't deserve her. He knows this. If he was a better person, he'd walk away. But he's not good at that, at walking away from people who are better off without him around. Like Stefan and Elena and now Bonnie. He anchors himself to them, drags them down to his level, drowns them in his misery. He doesn't want that for her, not for Bonnie._

 _He's done too much._ Taken _too much._

 _And she deserves better._

 _She does._ )

* * *

Damon skips his car and goes on foot. He cuts through the woods, panic and worry tumbling in his stomach. He's cursing Bonnie's name, and Kai's, and his own, as he runs. He should've expected this. He should've _known_. It's Bonnie. Of course she's going to try to take him on alone.

This is his fault. It's all his fault. He's the one that let her believe that she was the gun, Elena was the trigger, and he was the one that aimed her. When it comes to saving them, Bonnie is the first and last answer. Sacrifice might as well be her middle name, she's that familiar with it.

He wanted things to be different when they got back. He wanted to be _better_. But now he's starting to wonder if that's even possible. He's had over 170 years of this, of who he is, of his shit decision making, and so far, he hasn't changed all that much.

After four months in a prison world, some people might learn their lesson. Not him. _Obviously_. Because if he had, Bonnie wouldn't be throwing herself on a pyre of sacrifice as if it's just common sense. At some point, he must've failed to communicate just how important it is that she doesn't keep rating her life below all the rest. And yes, sure, some of that is on Bonnie. She has to work on her self-esteem or self-worth or _something_. But he can't say that he hasn't contributed to it. _He has_.

Was she a different person before he blew into town? Was she a stronger, more confident person? Or had everyone and everything else already shaped her this way? He knows about her home life. About Abby taking off and her dad not playing a big part. How Grams was her go-to parental figure for most of her life. And he's got nothing against Sheila Bennett. But Damon knows shitty parents and what kind of effect they can have on a kid, no matter what other good influences are around.

He loved his mom. Adored the ground she walked on. And when he lost her, his life turned on its head. Left to their father's machinations, he could do nothing but attempt to survive. So, he did. He wonders sometimes if his father's actions directly shaped the man that became so susceptible to Katherine's whim. He was so ready to do whatever she wanted, so long as she wouldn't deny him the one thing he desperately wanted.

 _(tell me you love me. and mean it. please, mean it_ )

Maybe at his core, Damon's never been a good person. But Bonnie has. And maybe having him in her life has been the worst possible thing for her. Chances are high that's true. Maybe the best thing he can do is walk away while she still has a chance to recover. But right now, that's not an option. Not when her life is at risk. After, when the dust has settled, maybe then.

But right now?

He's going to save his stubborn, sacrificial little witch.

* * *

 _( The first time he tells Katherine he loves her, she pats his cheek like a loyal dog. It might as well be an adoring caress, because he takes it as confirmation she feels the same._

 _The first time he says it to Elena, he compels her memory of it away. Was that selfish or selfless? He's not really sure._

 _Bonnie is sleeping on her stomach, naked, a rare night that she seems completely at peace and unbothered by nightmares. He lays on his side beside her, his head propped on his hand while he strokes swirling lines along her back. Her heartbeat is calm and steady._

 _Those three words keeping bubbling up inside. The pressure to just put them out there and hope she returns them is something he struggles with. He's an impulsive person by nature, but there are some things, some people, he knows he needs to be more patient with._

 _She's not ready._

 _Maybe he isn't either._

 _If he says them and she doesn't feel the same, what then?_

 _Does he walk away? Does he stay? Tell her he can live with it if she's still in his life in some capacity? Does he hope she'll come around? See something, feel something, she hasn't yet._

 _Maybe it's better not to know. Maybe it's better to live in denial. To keep that hope alive._

 _Maybe._

 _He stares down at her back, alight in the soft glow of the moon. His fingers move along her back in loops, a cursive expression of what he can't say, won't say, but feels. Right down to his core. Someday, he'll get the courage. He'll look her in the eye and he'll say it and if he's lucky, if he's real damn lucky, she'll say it back._

 _For now, this will just have to do._

iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou )

* * *

By the time Tyler makes it back up to the complex, the sky is a violent shade of purple, black, and grey. Clouds roll over each other like waves crashing against jagged rocks. A downpour douses a field of struggling fire, while lightning strikes the ground at random.

Liv's fingers are digging into her legs, her hands clamped tight on her thighs. Her eyes are wide as she stares ahead, at the chaos growing in the distance. "Ty…"

"I'm going. You can stay here." He brings the SUV to a stop, planning to run the rest of the way. He's not sure what he's going to do, how he can possibly help, but he needs to do something.

" _Wait!_ " Liv unbuckles her seatbelt with shaking hands.

He frowns. "You should stay here. It isn't safe."

She glares at him. "Which one of us is a witch with the actual ability to do something in this fight?"

He blinks. "Point taken."

She sighs, and turns in her seat to look back at Luke. Biting her lip, she shakes her head. "Kai is my brother, too. I forget that sometimes. It's just…" She turns back around and looks ahead to the field. "It's hard to think of him as family when he destroyed so much of ours."

Tyler nods. He wants to say that he gets it, but does he? _Can he?_ His father was far from a saint, but the situation was different.

"I need to do this," Liv says. "For me. For my family. And for Bonnie, too. We might not always get along, but… She doesn't deserve this."

"Okay." Just as Tyler reaches for his door and Liv pushes her own open, a blindingly bright light shoots down from the sky and straight into Bonnie.

Wide eyed, he turns to Liv, who stares back at him, just as shocked.

Simultaneously, they jump out of the SUV and start up the hill.

The wind grows stronger the closer they get to the epicenter of it all. If Tyler squints, he can just make her out, somehow still standing. Kai lays at her feet, nearly eclipsed by the glow.

"What's she doing?" Tyler has to yell to be heard over the whistling wind.

Liv shakes her head, her hair whipping around her face violently. "I don't _know!_ "

He pushes ahead, rain water pouring down from above, soaking him through to the bone. It's _freezing_. Even though the rain has put out a few fires, lightening keeps making new ones, leaving the air thick with smoke. It burns his throat with each inhale.

Liv cries out when the wind becomes so strong it starts pushing her back. Tyler grabs for her, catches her hand, and pulls her to his side. Their fingers fold together, painfully tight. She puts an arm up to try and shield her face and looks up at him, dripping wet and shivering. "What do we _do?_ "

As if in answer, Damon appears from the woods, speeding forward to stand just a few feet from them.

* * *

( _"I don't give a_ crap _about Bonnie Bennett..."_

 _He was lying then; to Shane and to himself._

 _Upon reflection, he cares a lot. Then and now._

 _Almost too much._

 _Bonnie told him once that he was desperate for commitment; that he devotes himself to those he loves. She was right. He doesn't know how to do half-measures._

 _She probably had no idea that one day all of that commitment and devotion would be for her._

 _But she's going to find out. )_

* * *

Damon is out of breath, his expression twisted and stricken. Bonnie is in the middle of what might as well be a cyclone, wind and debris rushing all around her, sparks of fire or electricity woven throughout, like a magical barbed wire to keep anyone from getting to her. He grits his teeth and searches for a chink in the armor, a loophole, a break in it all that he can sneak through in a blink.

He's not sure how long he stares, contemplates, debates, before he hears—

" _Damon!_ "

Stefan and Caroline are there, soaked through, struggling to get to him through the rushing wind, feet slipping on wet, soft earth.

"What is she doing?" Caroline yells, looking from him to Tyler and Liv.

Liv shakes her head and lifts her shoulders. "Best guess? Trying to destroy him."

Damon frowns. "By forced drowning?" The rain is turning the ground to sludge, and it shows no signs of letting up.

Liv purses her lips in a frown, and then pushes herself closer to him, so he can hear her better. Caroline follows, unwilling to be left out.

"Kai siphons power, right? So, what if she's trying to use it against him? What if the only way to kill him it to give him so much that he can't take it?" Liv tilts her head up to look at the light beam. "Coven leaders can channel the power of their coven, and vice versa. It makes everyone stronger. But Kai, he _takes_ power. If Bonnie can channel her coven, every Bennett witch, alive or dead, she can overload Kai with more than he can survive. It's like… Like a _merge_. Only one survives."

Damon's cheek ticks with agitation.

Stefan frowns. "What if it's not enough? What if he survives? Then he's got the power of _every_ Bennett witch."

Caroline looks worried. "He can take on the whole world."

"Screw that. If he survives, Bonnie _dies_." Damon shakes his head. "No. Not this time." He pushes forward, only to get pulled back.

Stefan stares at him, his brow furrowed. "If you go in there, you could _die_."

He smirks, even as he feels a lead weight fill his stomach. "Have a little faith, Brother."

"Damon, don't do this…" Stefan grips the soggy shoulder of Damon's shirt tightly. "I just got you back!"

Damon stares at him a long beat. "I'm not gonna lose her again…" The wind howls around them. "Not like this."

"What are you going to _do?_ " Stefan points toward the chaos ahead. "You can't get through that. And you can't _stop_ her."

"I can sure as hell try."

"Damon, please… _Think_ about this."

"I am." He grins then, and pivots, placing his own hand on Stefan's shoulder and squeezing. "I'm sorry!"

Stefan's brow scrunches. "For what?"

"For _everything_. For Lexi, for Katherine, for blaming you all these years… For Elena." He turns his head, looks at Caroline with uncharacteristic seriousness. "I'm sorry I used you. I should've said it sooner. You didn't deserve it." He turns back to Stefan. "I can give you a laundry list of everything I've done wrong, but I'm short on time here. So, consider this my blanket apology for every screwed up thing I've ever done. It's long overdue."

Stefan swallows tightly. "This is _suicide_."

Damon gives Stefan's shoulder one last shake, and then he pushes him back, _away_ , so he tumbles into Caroline, out of reach. "This is hope," he says, and then he's gone, right into the eye of the storm.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **author's note** : _while i'd written this chapter already, a part of me wasn't sure if i should continue it. i did like the open ending to it all. but a few people wanted damon's view of things, so i hope it meets expectation. there is a third part with a resolution to everything still coming. depending on how editing goes, it may have to be split into two. we'll see._

 _thanks so much for reading! if you can, please try to leave a review!_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	3. strength

**warning(s)** : sexually suggestive ; language ; violence  
 **rating** : high teen / mature  
 **word count** : 12,530

* * *

 ** _if you love me (don't let go)_**

* * *

"Is it over now?" Bonnie wonders, staring ahead at the light before her, like an open door, inviting her in.

Grams steps forward, her body blocking out the light. It makes her glow. She puts a hand beneath Bonnie's chin and lifts it, stares her square in the eye and says, "You tell me."

Bonnie swallows tightly; she takes a deep breath and lets it out on a shaky sigh. "I don't know," she whispers, a tear streaming down her cheek. "I'm just… _tired_." Her heart thuds hard in her chest. "Am I weak, Grams? I know you wanted me to be strong. I tried so hard." A sob crawls up her chest and burns her throat. "I _tried_."

"I know, baby." Grams reaches for her, cups her face gently and shakes her head. "You _are_ strong."

"I don't feel like it. I feel like… Like I failed you. Like I failed _everyone_."

( _I try so hard, and I never get it right_ )

"Oh, Bonnie…"

The light shifts at Sheila's back then, and she moves to the side. A dark figure steps out and Bonnie's breath catches.

* * *

( _When Bonnie is seven-years-old, she falls off her bike. It's nothing big. She scrapes her knees and her elbow and both her palms. She's in the driveway of her house, and the first she wants is to have someone hug her and tell her it's okay. But when she stands up and dusts herself off, she can see her dad through the front window, pacing as he talks on the phone. She decides then and there he can't do for her what she needs._

 _Bonnie walks her bike four blocks over to her Grams' house, her knees stinging the whole way. She leaves it on the lawn, climbs the porch stairs, and knocks on the door._

 _Grams throws the door open, takes one look at her, and clucks her tongue._

 _Bonnie bursts into tears and raises her torn up palms for Grams to see._

 _With a soft, 'come here now,' Grams ushers her into the house and down the hall to the bathroom. She sits Bonnie on the closed lid of the toilet and cleans out each and every scrape with gentle hands. When Bonnie flinches away from the dab of the wet cloth, she blows cool air on her knees until they don't hurt so much. And finally, she wipes away the drying tearstains on her cheeks._

 _"Okay?" she asks, helping her back onto her feet._

 _Bonnie nods at her, a sharp jerk of her head that makes her curly hair bounce._

 _"You want a ride home then or you gonna ride your bike?"_

 _Bonnie's nose scrunches up. "I fell off."_

 _"So? You lived, didn't you?"_

 _Her mouth purses. "But I might fall again." She looks down at her sore hands. "What if you aren't home?"_

 _Grams cups her chin and gives it a little shake as she smiles down at her. "Then you get back up. You always get back up."_

 _Bonnie stares at her a long beat, and then nods. Like everything Grams says, Bonnie takes it for fact. "Okay."_

 _"Okay you're going to ride your back home…?"_

 _She smiles. "Yup."_

 _"All right then. You want some dinner first?"_

 _Her face lights up and she bounces a little as she follows Grams toward the kitchen, disaster forgotten._ )

* * *

The debris tears at Damon's skin; he can feel brick and wood scrape and lash at him. He can't breathe or see, he's simply afloat, trying desperately to get through to the other side. His feet slide out from under him, pull him into the force of the cyclone, like a leaf caught on a gust of wind, tumbling and untethered. But he tips down, claws at the ground, digs his heels in, and drags himself forward. Until he's flat on his belly, on soggy ground, staring at Kai's grey face. Blood seeps from the corner of Kai's eyes and drips from his ears. It pools between his nose and his mouth before two streams make sharp lines down either of his cheeks. His chest heaves with broken, choked breaths, the only sign that he is somehow still alive. Tiny veins have burst across his eyes, leaving red inkblots across white sclera. He turns his gaze to Damon, desperate and clearly in agony.

Damon offers no sympathy in reply. He pushes himself up on shaking knees, his clothes torn and soaked through with patches of blood. The wind screams at his back, loud and angry. He stumbles closer, nearly trampling Kai in the process, and squints to see Bonnie through the beam of blinding light that has struck her chest.

"Bon…" he calls out, raising an arm to block out the light. " _Bonnie!_ "

She doesn't move; not a twitch or a sound. She is stone still. And, for a moment, Damon wonders if she's even there, or if the light and the powers that be are moving through her body like a conduit, absent of thought or feeling. But he shakes it off, because _no_. No way does she go through all this, fighting for her independence, her life, to be anything _but_ a tool, only to become exactly that.

"Look, I don't know if you can hear me, but we both know I like the sound of my own voice, so just…" He shakes his head, sopping hair plastered to his forehead. "I'm not on the 'let Kai live' bus anymore than you are, but if you do this… Chances are, you aren't going to live through it. And I'm not prepared for that. I— I'm not willing to _lose_ you. Especially for a cockroach like Kai."

Bonnie remains stiff and unmoved, and Damon grits his teeth.

"C'mon, Bonnie. I know you're in there. I've never met anyone more stubborn than you. Are you gonna let Kai Parker be the reason your life ends early? _Huh?_ "

He stares at her searchingly, desperate for a sign that she's listening, that she doesn't want this.

"This is my fault… I don't just mean this morning. I should've known something was up. That you'd go and pull this very _Bonnie_ -like one woman stand against our enemy. I should've talked to you after Elena called instead of running ahead, like it was my duty to save her or fix it or _whatever_. I—I should've told you a long time ago that this martyr thing you've got going, this sacrifice yourself for others mentality, it comes at a cost you shouldn't have to pay. You shouldn't be _willing_ to pay." He licks his lips, blinking rapidly against the rain pouring down his face. "Look, we both know I'm selfish. I put myself before just about everybody. And maybe that's not a quality a lot of people like, fine. But sometimes you _need_ to put yourself first. You need to value yourself enough to say 'no.' And I know you're not used to that. I know you think the only good thing you have to offer is your powers or your life, but _damn it_ , Bonnie, you're wrong."

Damon could swear, the only answer to his words was the light beam growing _brighter_.

With an impatient and desperate growl, Damon lurched forward and reached out. He could feel his skin searing, like an open flame pressed to the insides of his forearms. But he pressed on, crossing the divide until his hands found Bonnie's shoulders. And then the pain along his arms ebbed, and the beam hitting Bonnie fractured, passing half of it off, straight into his chest.

Damon's breath caught, his eyes wide with shock.

And then everything goes _still_.

* * *

( _When Damon is a boy, his mother finds him hiding in a cupboard in the pantry. The servants have snuck him his breakfast and lunch, and don't ask him why. Why is he hiding? Who is he hiding from. They simply pass him food and close the doors, leaving him to the dark and the quiet. He can hear them, bustling around out there, talking in hushed whispers. He knows he falls asleep at some point, and only wakes because something has fallen and the rattling noise jars him from his nap._

 _He's considering drifting back off when the doors swing open and it isn't one of the servants looking down at him, but his mother. She sighs, shaking her head faintly, and then holds a hand aloft._

 _Damon looks at it briefly, and then reaches out, letting him draw him from his hiding spot._

 _Lily Salvatore is delicate; her hands are satin soft and always gentle. She is nothing like his father. Quiet where Giuseppe is loud. Soft where he is hard. Kind where he is cruel. She puts her hands to his shoulders and calmly walks him out of the kitchens. She doesn't take him to his room or to the library, like he's expecting, but instead, outside._

 _She leads him through the gardens, nodding to the servants that care for the yard, and brings him to a stone bench that overlooks her prized roses. Taking a seat, she places her hands in her lap and turns herself to face him. "When I was a young girl, my mother taught me the secret to keeping a rose garden. She said it was the same as raising children. You speak to them."_

 _Damon's brow furrows. "But they cannot hear us. They are flowers. They have no ears."_

 _"They are alive, just as we are. They take what we offer them. Be it water or sunlight or gentle love and care." She reaches out and cups her hand beneath a large bud, letting her thumb graze its bright red petals. "When someone is harsh with a flower, when it is mistreated, it wilts. It loses its life and its color and it dies. Sometimes, the flowers around it will die, too. Other times, they thrive despite it."_

 _Damon looks from her to the rose and back. "Why are you telling me this, Mother?"_

 _"Your father was harsh with you this morning… He is harsh with you many mornings." Her lips press flat. "There is a reason that I tend to the roses and not him."_

 _His brow furrows. "They would wilt under his care?"_

 _"They surely would. And I fear anything else he touches might also." With a grave sigh, she turns, and reaches for him, taking his hands into hers. "It is important to remember that while a heavy hand can harm, a gentle hand can revive… Your father will teach you many things, Damon. Lessons you ought to learn and others you ought never repeat. It is my hope that you take from him what little good he offers, and avoid the rest."_

 _Damon shakes his head. "I do not understand."_

 _"You are a flower. Everyone you meet, everyone you love, they are flowers, too. Be gentle with them, my love. But more than that, be gentle with yourself." She cups his face then and strokes his cheek. "Never wilt. Promise me."_

 _While he was not certain he understood her then, he promised anyway, because she was his mother, and he would give her whatever she asked. "I promise."_ )

* * *

It's as if time has stopped. Rather than a light from above, it's at his back, in the distance, like a beacon calling him to it. A siren promising rest and peace. Damon blinks, shakes his head, and then turns back to face Bonnie. Her eyes stare ahead, cloudy and unfocused, while her body is still poised as it was. Arms out, palms up, like a flower, her arms as leaves, her gentle face the open petals.

"Bonnie." His hands slide up her shoulders, along her neck, where her pulse is so faint.

( _no no no, please no_ )

"Bonnie, baby, hey… Wake up. Come on." His hands travel higher, cupping her soft, round cheeks, thumbs stroking along the arch. "Look at me, Bon. _Look_!"

"She can't hear you."

Damon's head swivels, his brow furrowed as he finds Sheila Bennett staring back at him. She's dressed casually in jeans and a mossy green cardigan. He's not sure what he was expecting. Robes? A silken gown? Some kind of angel get-up? But she looks just like she did the last time he saw her.

He glances back at Bonnie and then over to Sheila, his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Why are you here, Damon?"

He bares his teeth, feeling defensive. "I was passing by, thought I'd stop in, say 'hello.'"

She clucks her tongue, exasperated with him already. "You're on a time limit, try not to waste it feeding your ego."

His jaw ticks and he drops his gaze to the ground briefly. When his eyes raise again, they're filled with fire. "You're letting her do this?"

Sheila scoffs. " _Letting_ implies I have any say in it."

"You're ' _Grams._ ' You're the most influential person in her life."

"Am I?" She raises an eyebrow and walks past him, her gaze softening as it moves to Bonnie. "I raised that girl to be _strong_. I did everything I could to make up for my daughter's absence, for her father's inability to stay put and be the parent she needed."

"Absence." He snorts. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Abby had her reasons. I may not agree with them, and I wish things had turned out differently. But she made her choice. I did what I could to make up for it." She turns to him then, her face as hard as granite. "I wouldn't take such a firm stance on things from where you're standing, Damon. You have plenty to make up for yourself. If you don't think you've had a hand in shaping Bonnie—"

"I didn't say that."

"But you're quick to point the finger, aren't you?"

He draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I know I've screwed up. But I like to think I've stuck around, that I'm making up for it."

"If that were true, my grandbaby wouldn't be walking a tightrope between life or death." She stares up at him. "Don't think you're the only one to blame. This was a group effort. Choices have been made, _sacrifices_ , that have led us here. And now the choice is in her hands."

"What _choice?_ "

"Kai has made sure that his soul will live on. He's taken measures so that the destruction of his body won't matter. Bonnie won't allow that. In order to destroy a _soul_ … It's going to take a lot more than she has to offer."

"What the hell does that mean?"

As if in answer, the field around him suddenly fills with people. A sea of brown faces, linked hand to hand. He turns his head to take them all in and there, in the distance, he sees Emily Bennett. It dawns on him abruptly. This was them. All of the Bennetts. Generation after generation of witch and warlock reaches as far as the eye can see. Linked and bound. Their heads are tipped back as they chant, their voices coming together in a deep, powerful monotone.

"Liv was right. You're passing your power onto her, like a coven," he says, a weight settling on his shoulders. When he looks back to Sheila, it's to find her grim face staring back at him. "She can't handle that, can she?"

"Bonnie is stronger than anyone I've ever known." Sheila raises her chin. "It's in her hands whether she lives or dies. Her _choice_."

His brow knits then. "What the hell kind of choice is that?" He turns to Bonnie and stares at her passive face. "She's twenty-one. She's got her whole damn life ahead of her."

"And you were twenty-five when you decided your fate. What makes it so different?"

"My fate was to live forever. I wanted to turn because I wanted to be _loved_. Because I was desperate for anybody to think I was worth keeping around," he snarls. "Because if I was immortal and so was my girlfriend, then I'd never have to bury her."

"Like your mother."

" _Yes_ , like my mother," he yells, panting now. "All my life, she was the only good thing I had. Her and Stefan. And then she was gone. She _left_ me. And I was stuck there, crushed under my father's thumb. But if I just… If I was a little stronger, I could get out."

"You were trapped. Unable to break free from his wrath or control."

"He was an abusive asshole that took pleasure in taking out his anger on a couple of kids."

"Bonnie is human. A witch, yes, but still a human. She'll live until she's seventy, eight, maybe even ninety. Eventually, you'll bury her, too. Unless you're hoping she'll turn…?"

He grinds his teeth. "Bonnie's a witch. She'd never go for it."

"Then what was your masterplan, hm? How would you keep her forever?"

"I _wouldn't._ You think I don't know that? You think I don't _wrestle_ with the idea that one day, I'm going to wake up and she's going to be old and grey and _tired_. I do. But I also know her. I know that being a witch is something she loves. Something sacred to her. It's the only thing she has left that ties her to you and the rest of her family. So, yeah, I want to keep her forever, but I admire her, I respect her, I—I _love_ her, enough to know that isn't what she wants."

"So, you spend the next sixty or seventy years by her side, and that's enough for you?"

"Not enough. Not even _close_. But it's a hell of a lot longer than the next five minutes."

Sheila stares at him a long beat, searching his face like she expects to find the truth or lie of his words painted there, for all to see. "Tell her."

"Tell her what?"

"Everything you never said. Everything she needs to hear."

He frowns, glancing back at Bonnie. "Will it save her?"

"I don't know," Sheila admits. "But even if it doesn't, she deserves to hear it."

Damon feels the uncertainty of it all strike him in the chest, a lancing pain that feels like a blade carving a hole in his heart, and then he turns back to Bonnie.

* * *

( _"It would do her a world of good if she knew you were here."_

 _Rudy Hopkins looks up as Sheila takes a seat next to him on the bleachers. "I wasn't sure I'd make it. I didn't want to get her hopes up."_

 _"You seem to make a habit of that… It's better to have some hope than none at all." She looks at him thoughtfully. "You're a good man, Rudy. A good father, when you like. But you could be better."_

 _He frowns, turns his gaze forward, to his little girl smiling and laughing with her friends. "You're a better parent than I could ever be, Sheila."_

 _"Maybe," she says. "But I'm not who she wants."_

 _He sighs, and before he can offer more, his phone buzzes at his hip. No doubt, it's work calling. He shouldn't take it. He can spend this time here, with Bonnie, even if she doesn't know he's there for her first big rally. But his phone won't stop buzzing, insistent, and it's with a heavy heart that he reaches for it. He can feel Sheila's heavy, judging gaze on him and he wants to tell her that this is all for Bonnie. That all of his work will keep her happy and fed and well cared for. But the truth is, he's scared. Scared that he's lost too much time already and there's no way to make up for it._

 _So, he stands, and he walks away, to his car parked in the distance, all the while talking to his boss about another job out of town. Just as he's about to climb in his car, he turns back, watches Bonnie get into formation in her bright, brand new uniform, and smile widely for the crowd, for her Grams, unaware that the space beside her was once occupied by the father she's always asking to come home, to be there, to just_ stay _. With a silent apology, he climbs into his car and tells himself that next time he'll stay. Next time he'll make time._ Next time _._

 _( it's a lie, and he knows it )_

* * *

"Daddy?" Bonnie's heart thuds in her chest as she stares at her father, standing so close and still so far. Her feet are planted to the ground, unmoving. When she turns her head to the side, Grams is nowhere to be seen, and below, Kai is long gone. It's just her and her father and the light at his back. "Is it really you?"

Rudy smiles as he walks forward. "It's me."

Her heart cracks open and a strangled sob leaves her mouth. In two steps, she's in his arms, holding onto him tight, burying her face against his shoulder. "Oh God, oh God… I missed you."

He hugs her back, his chin balanced atop her head, and his arms wound around so tightly, she almost can't breathe. But she's not complaining. A part of her wants to stay there, swallowed up in his embrace, and never leave. She feels safe. Safer than she has in a long time. Here, the world isn't out to get her. Here, there are no expectations. She is not a witch nor a martyr nor a friend. She's just a daughter. A daughter who has so _desperately_ missed her dad.

"I'm sorry," he says, a rough whisper against her hair.

Bonnie tilts her head back to see him, her brow furrowed. "For what?"

"I wasn't there. I wasn't around like you needed me. I— I worked so much. _Too_ much."

"It's okay." She shakes her head, smiling at him sadly. "I get it."

"No." He stares at her, expression grim. "No, Bonnie, it wasn't okay. I… I checked out after your mom left. I was angry at her, hurt that she could just leave us behind. I didn't get it. And I blamed myself. For not being a better man or husband. I thought I did something or I wasn't enough of something and that's why she left."

"But it wasn't. It was because of Klaus and Elena. It's complicated, but daddy, it wasn't you."

"That doesn't matter." Rudy rubs a big hand over her hair affectionately. "After Abby left, you needed me. You needed your dad around. And I… I messed up. I left you with Sheila, hoped she'd be the mom you needed, and I told myself it was okay. I was still providing for you, and that's what mattered. But I was wrong, honey. You needed more than that. You _deserved_ more than that."

Bonnie's eyes fill with tears and her mouth trembles even as she tries to smile. "It's okay—"

"Listen to me now," he tells her. "Quit making excuses for me or you mom or any of your friends. You don't owe us anything. We _hurt_ you, baby. You get to be mad. You _should_. Because carrying all this, carrying our problems for us, it's gonna drag you right down until you can't move anymore." He takes a deep breath, rests his hands on her shoulders, and gives them a little shake. "You got the weight of the world on your shoulders, babygirl. It's time to stop carrying it."

"Daddy…" She swallows thickly and stares up at him. "What do I do?"

"I can't make that choice for you. You need to ask yourself what you want, what you're willing to do to get it, and if it's the _right_ thing."

"But I don't know. I don't know what I want. I don't…" She draws in a deep breath, hiccupping a little as she fights the fear and worry building in her chest. "I don't know how I got here. I don't know who I am. Four years ago, I— I was just a normal girl. I just wanted to be happy. And now…" She laughs incredulously. "Now, I'm trying to kill someone."

"You won't hear any judgement from me. That Kai… Sheila's been keeping an eye on you, she's got more reach than I do. She's told me what he's done and…" His expression darkens. "I don't support the use of violence, you know this. But Kai… He isn't a man, Bonnie. He's a monster. Sometimes, we have to do things for the greater good."

Bonnie nods, biting down on her lip. "What does it make me if I kill him? Am I a monster, too?"

"No. No, you're… You're trying to do what you've always done. Keep people safe." He smiles then, and chucks her chin lightly. "You remember when you were eight years old? The Gilbert girl got herself into some trouble. She hit a boy that was picking on her. You told the teacher you hit him, because you didn't think it was right that they were going to send her home. She was crying and you felt bad, so you tried to save her. That's just… It's who you are." He raises an eyebrow. "You remember what I told you?"

"That sometimes people have to face their own consequences. That even if I want to save them, I could be hurting them. Because they aren't going to learn anything if I always learn it for them." Her brow furrows. "But Kai—"

"I'm not talking about Kai now. He deserves what he gets."

She frowns. "You're talking about Elena?"

"I know she's your friend. I know they're all your friends. But a real friend doesn't ask you to lay down your life for them. That's not what friendship is. You wanna save your friends? You let them fall, let 'em pick themselves back up and learn from it."

"What if they die? This isn't just a fight on the playground. This is life or death!"

"Yeah, it is. It's their life and _your_ death. Do you think that's right? Think that's fair?"

"I don't…" She blows out a sigh. "I don't know."

"What's that tell you?"

She shakes her head, confused.

"You gotta come first, Bonnie. For you more than anyone. It's not selfish; it's survival." He rubs his hands over her arms soothingly. "I didn't grow up like you. I wasn't facing down every evil there is out there. But I know a thing or two about surviving. I made mistakes raising you, I let my hurt and my pain guide me. That's not any way to live. You got a chance here to live your life the way you deserve. You just gotta start making the hard choices. Start putting yourself first and foremost."

"What if I don't know how?"

"Then you _learn_." He nods. "You surround yourself with the right people. With people who are going to put you first. That are going to respect you when you say no. And if you don't have any, then you get rid of the ones you got and you find new people."

Her eyes burn. "But I love them."

"And if they love you, they'll understand."

She swallows down the ache in her throat and has to force the words out, "That's what I'm scared of… They won't. They won't get it. Because I don't… I don't _matter_."

He squeezes her arms and pulls her in, hugging her close to his chest. "You do. You hear me? You matter."

Bonnie clings to his back, crying against his chest. But before she can sink into the comfort of it, she can feel him leaving her. "Don't go," she pleads. "Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone."

"You're not." He presses a kiss to her forehead. "I'm always with you. Always on your side. I promise."

"Daddy…?" Bonnie opens her eyes to see there is nothing but the light ahead of her, and her heart sinks down to her feet.

"Bonnie?"

She startles at the new voice and swings around, mouth ajar and eyes wide. "What…? What are you doing here?"

* * *

( _She doesn't want to think it's romantic. Doesn't want her heart to feel like it's doubled in size. But when he leads her out to dance, that's exactly how she feels. Damon twirls her, raises their hands above her head and swings her around in a quick circle. His free hand slides over her stomach and back and then draws her in until she's pressed, chest to chest with him. And for a moment, she forgets that they're in a restaurant filled with other people. There's only the music and him. He moves them in a familiar dance and her feet fall into rhythm with his, moving effortlessly across the floor. Her hand slides from his shoulder, down his arm, to catch around his own, their fingers tangling._

 _"Where'd you learn to dance?" she wonders._

 _"It was a requirement growing up." He shrugs. "Just another part of our education back then as affluent, privileged, white people."_

 _She hums. "And you just… remembered?"_

 _"I might brush up on it every decade or so."_

 _She smiles slowly. "I can't imagine you taking dancing classes."_

 _He wiggles his eyebrows. "It was a great place to meet people."_

 _"Ahh… Now it's making sense."_

 _"Women like a man that can dance, Bon-Bon." He grins. "Point in fact… How turned on are you right now?"_

 _"The dancing might have more effect if I wasn't so hungry." Still she lets her fingers slide up his shoulder to stroke along his neck and bites her lip when his eyes darken. "But I guess I can see the appeal… It's supposed to be a metaphor for sex, right? Your footwork isn't bad."_

 _He laughs, deep in his chest. "Glad you approve."_

 _"Practice makes perfect though." She lifts her knee up, hitches it around his waist, and grins as he dips her back. "If you're good, I'll give you a few private lessons."_

 _"Mmm… I like the sound of that." He draws her back up, his hand sliding down her back and around to rest on her hip. "But I think I promised you all the pasta you could eat." Taking a step back, he holds a hand out to her._

 _Bonnie takes it, and lets him lead her back to their table. There's a candle in the center; the flame sends light and shadow skittering over his face. He seems lighter lately, calm and content in a way she rarely sees him. Life in Mystic Falls is still hard; she's never quite sure what's around the next corner. But Damon seems to have found some semblance of peace in his life. She doesn't want to say it's her or her influence. In fact, she won't say it's that, because that would be treading far too close to wanting_ _something she knows she can't have. But in moments like these, where the rest of the world and all its responsibilities fade, she can almost forget that they aren't anything more than two people dancing. And eventually, the music always ends._

 _He looks up then, catches her eye, and smiles._

 _Maybe one more chorus, maestro. One for the road. )_

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Damon stares at her, and swears he feels a phantom pounding of his heart, stuttering against his chest. He's not sure where Sheila went, but she's gone, and Bonnie is suddenly aware of him. The relief hits him abruptly, so much so that a laugh escapes him. "I could ask you the same thing, Little Bird."

"I…" Her gaze falls to the ground, where Kai is suddenly absent. In fact, everything is. Sheila, the Bennett witches, their hodge-podge group of friends on the outside looking in. It's just them. "I have a way to get rid of Kai," she says, and then she lifts her chin, like she's expecting a fight.

"That's one way to put it." He waves a hand around pointedly. "This is it, huh? The last time we faced off against the white light wasn't enough?"

She frowns. "This is different."

"Is it?" His eyebrows arch. "You were taking on a big enemy, saving all your friends, sacrificing yourself for the greater good…" He weighs his hands back and forth. "Sounds pretty familiar."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "This is _Kai_. He—"

"I know." He stares at her seriously. "I know what he did to you. I know that you're still dealing with it and some days are better than others… I know you can't sleep at night. That you wake up constantly, scared that he's there or you're alone, stuck in the prison world still. I know that sometimes you hide in your house because you think if you go outside, it'll be empty and you'll realize you dreamt it all up. I know, because for the first few days, I felt the same way. Not the Kai stuff. Not the same way. He didn't hurt me, I get that. And I don't know how that feels, not really. But I do know that after you sent me back, all I could do was wonder if you were alive or okay or if he was hurting you. And I _blamed_ myself for not being there. For not _saving_ you. Because I should have, Bonnie. I _should_ have."

"You tried."

"Yeah." He scoffs. "Big deal."

"It is." She stares up at him, her eyes wide and bright. "I don't get picked. I don't get prioritized. I get forgotten. Mourned, if I'm lucky. But, I'm not the one people take the world on for."

"Then those people are _idiots._ "

She laughs, emotional and thick, and then reaches up to swipe at her eyes. "You were one of those idiots."

"I was." He nods. "For a long time, _too_ long, I wasn't thinking about you. I sacrificed you, just like everybody else. But listen, it's different now. _I'm_ different now."

She looks away, shaking her head.

Damon reaches for her, his hands settling on her shoulders. "This isn't about me."

"That sounds like a cop out," she mutters.

"You wanna hear me say I made a mistake? Okay! I did. I made a _lot_ of them. You wanna yell at me, you wanna tear me a new one, _do it_. But do it when you're alive. When you're home, safe and sound, and Kai is just a bad memory."

She turns her eyes toward him, her lips pursed.

"This isn't about me, because it's about _you_." He slides his hands down her arms, _down down down_ , until he can fold his fingers through hers. "I know you're tired. I know you want to give up. But you shouldn't."

She looks down at their hands, frowning. "Give me a reason."

He squeezes her hands, and she raises her chin to meet his eyes.

"You're not done living." He licks his lips and offers a faint, sad smile. "You've got twenty-one years behind you. That's _nothing_. You've got sixty more coming and you deserve every last one of them. You deserve a _life_. A career, a family, whatever you want. Just not— not _this_."

"What makes this time different? Twice, Damon. I've already died _twice_. I have another sixty? Who says I'll even get six?"

" _I do_." His eyes widen as he leans forward. "I'll pull you back from every cliff, catch you after every fall. I'll kill every enemy you make before they even _think_ about taking you on. Point me in the direction of whatever's in your way, Bonnie, I'll get rid of it." He shakes his head. "For every day I told you that you weren't worth saving. Every time I sent you off to take the hit so Elena would live. Every person you've lost that I had a hand in. Every _moment_ you've doubted yourself since you met me. I will make it up to you."

Bonnie bites her lip as her mouth trembles and a tear trickles down her cheek. "What if you _can't?_ "

His chest squeezes. "Then as soon as you're okay, I'll walk away."

Her brow furrows. "Just like that?"

"Tell me what you _want_. You want a bungalow on a sandy beach somewhere nobody else can find? I'll buy you one. You want a high-rise apartment in the city and never to see me again? _Done_. You want to stay here and fight every evil asshole that even looks at you funny? I'll have your back, every time." He stares at her searchingly. "Say the word."

"I…" She shakes her head. "I don't know."

Damon releases her hands and reaches for her face, cupping her cheeks. "Okay. So, tell me what you _don't_ want."

She looks up at him, frowning. "I… I don't want to be ignored. I don't… I don't want to be a second thought. Or— Or the magical answer to everything."

He nods. "Okay."

"I don't want to be broken." Her chin quivers. "I don't want to be the girl her mom _abandoned._ I don't want to be a _victim_. I don't want to be so _desperate_ for love and affection. I don't want to be _forgotten_."

His face falls and his eyes soften.

She grabs onto the front of his shirt and pulls at him, even as she pushes, her fingers furled into fists. "I don't want to be left behind at 3 in the morning because your ex-girlfriend called. I don't want to be a replacement for the love of your life. I don't want to be your rebound. Just— just the person you're with until Elena wants you back. I don't want to _love_ you." Her voice breaks. "I don't want to be empty or lost or afraid. I don't want to be this person, who's so _tired_ that she just wants to close her eyes and not open them. I don't… _I don't_."

Damon pulls her forward and gathers her up, wrapping his arms around her tight. "Okay… Okay."

Bonnie breaks, her hands wrapped around his shoulders as her knees give out and he holds her up. "I don't want to die," she cries. "But I'm afraid. I'm afraid no matter what I do, that's all I'm ever going to be good for."

"You're wrong." He buries his face against her shoulder. "You hear me? This isn't how it ends."

"How do you know?" she whispers thickly.

"I know you." His cheek presses to hers, damp and warm. "I can't speak for the others. Me and the Scooby Gang aren't exactly besties."

She laughs a little.

"But Lockwood called me. That's how I found you."

"He called?" she asks, her voice small.

"He came back for you."

She shifts a little and looks up at him, her eyes wide. "He did?"

Damon nods. "Tyler, Liv, Stefan, and Caroline. They're out there, right now. And they don't want to lose you either."

Bonnie's eyes fall. "No Elena?"

"I don't know where Elena is. I don't even know if she knows what's happening right now. But listen… People care about you. _I_ care about you." He shakes his head. "But none of that matters if you don't care about yourself."

She looks up at him.

"I'll spend every day of your life with you, Bon. Kicking bad guy ass, eating pancakes, sharing bubble baths, whatever the hell you want. You wanna play Monopoly every day until you're 80, we'll do it." He brushes his fingers through her hair. "I hear the salt and pepper look works on some people… I'm willing to find out."

Her mouth hitches up faintly.

"You're not second best. You're not a stand in." He shakes his head. "And I'm sorry. I should've talked to you about this, about _us_ , a hell of a lot sooner. But I'm an _idiot_. I thought… I don't know what I thought. That you'd realize what kind of mess you were getting involved with. I… I've loved two other women, and I had to _beg_ them to love me back. But you… You hated me, and then you tolerated me, and then you saved me. I didn't deserve it, but you did it anyway." His fingers brush down her neck. "You're the best person I know. You're kind and hopeful and when I'm with you, I want to be better than I am. I want to be someone you can love. That _deserves_ you." His eyes burn but he blinks it back. "I don't want to lose you, Bonnie. In _any_ way. And I sure as hell don't want you to lose yourself…" He swallows tightly, and then pushes it out, those three words that have been handing at the tip of his tongue for so long. "I love you, okay? I— I _love_ you."

Bonnie stares up at him, her face soft. "Damon, I—"

The ground shifts then, trembling beneath them like an earthquake. A crack forms between them, pushing up dirt and rock, forcing them apart.

Bonnie stumbles backwards, her eyes wide. "Damon?"

The bright light at his back blinks and dims. And then Sheila appears, her mouth turned down. "He's fighting back."

"What?" Damon stares at her. "He was half- _dead_."

"Half isn't all." She purses her lips at him and then looks across to Bonnie. "You need to focus. This will take everything you have, Bonnie. Every inch of your strength."

Bonnie stares back at her, and then lifts her chin, firm and determined. "Okay."

" _Wait_." Damon throws a hand at her to stop and then looks to Sheila. "How much strength?"

Sheila's face falls. "There is a chance—"

"You said it was her _choice_. You said that she could survive this!"

"I didn't think he could take on this much power. But you have to understand, Damon. As much as we're putting into him, he's absorbing that. He grows stronger even as he grows weaker."

"What the hell does that even _mean?_ "

"It means..." Bonnie's eyes glint with defeated tears. "I have to take him with me."

Damon shakes his head and looks to Sheila.

"She can bind Kai to her," Sheila explains. "His soul is searching for somewhere to hide. If she can bind his soul to her own, and she dies… Kai does, too. It's the only guaranteed way to—"

"But if you feed all of your power into him, you said you could destroy his soul."

"All of this power is _killing_ her." Sheila glares up at him. "If there were other witches here, they could help ground the energy, but there isn't. Any more and she won't survive."

Damon's brow furrows. "What about me?"

Sheila sniffs. "What _about_ you?"

"When I touched Bonnie, the light hit me, too. What if I helped? What if I took on some of the energy? It's still hitting Kai, but it's not all going through her. Would that help?"

Sheila frowns, and glances away. "You're supernatural. There's magic in you because you're a vampire… It could work. _Some_."

He sighs. "But not enough?"

"I don't know," she admits.

"How do I do it? How do I take on more?"

" _Damon_ …" Bonnie stares at him. "This could kill you."

He meets her eyes and then offers up a crooked smile. "I told you. I'm here for all of it. Sixty years or six minutes."

Shaking her head, Bonnie looks to Sheila. " _No_."

"What? You're the only one who gets to be sacrificial? Don't hog the limelight, Bon-Bon." Damon draws a deep breath and nods. "Let's do this."

Sheila looks between them, indecision ripe in her face, and then she raises her eyes to bore into Damon. A few seconds pass before she nods. "All right."

" _Grams_."

"Don't argue with me," Sheila tells her. "You made your decision, didn't you?"

Bonnie pauses, and then nods.

"If you want to live, this might be your only chance. So, get over here and hold this man's hands."

She hesitates, but only for a second, and then she crosses the cracked earth. She reaches out, palms up, and Damon slides his underneath, cupping them.

Sheila clears her throat to draw Damon's attention. "Repeat after me," she tells him, and then begins to chant.

It takes Damon a few listens, but eventually he gets the pronunciation right.

He looks Bonnie in the eye, and he seals their fate.

* * *

( _Stefan tries. He really does. He tries to move on, to let go, to be okay with his brother's… death. Is that what it is? It doesn't seem right. He wants to categorize it, but he doesn't know how. Damon is gone. He was sucked up into the void just like all the rest. He is never coming back. And Stefan knows, he knows that some part of him should be relieved. Their history is filled with ups and downs and so many cracks that the foundation is almost irreparable. And yet… he misses him. After everything, all they've been through, the teetering see-saw of love and hate, it comes down to this…_

 _Stefan pushes into the family crypt, a bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. He takes a swig and enjoys the sharp burn as he swallows. And then, he laughs, more at himself and this whole screwed up situation than anything._

 _"Yup... This is happening. I'm gonna talk out loud to a... a crypt, filled with my dead family..."_

 _How many times has he been here? Burying people he hardly knew. Saying farewell to the next generation of Salvatores. Aware that he would always outlive them._

 _Except one. Or, that was how it was supposed to go._

 _"Everyone but you, Damon. 'Cause wherever you are, it's not here."_

 _Stefan sighs as he takes a seat on the stone bench, defeat flooding through him. "I gotta say, I'm not doing so great without you. Keep trying to start over but... Can't get anywhere."_

 _How many times did he reject Caroline's phone calls? Tell Alaric he was close, chasing yet another lead, all the while knowing he wasn't. That he'd given up. Set down tentative roots elsewhere and tried to build a life he knew he wouldn't, and couldn't, like. Because the life he'd had, the one that was constantly being upset by the same brother he was mourning, was still a part of him. Still holding him back, keeping him from getting any kind of traction._

 _Or maybe it wasn't life as it was. Maybe it was just one aspect, one person, that had been in it._

 _"Because I'm lost, Brother... I'm_ lost _."_

 _He hates it. He hates the pointless anger that has done nothing but grow inside him, blotting out everything else. He hates that he misses Caroline. That he keeps pushing her away even when a part of him is so desperate to just lay all his hurt and pain and anger at her feet. He hates that the man he misses, the brother who has tormented him off and on for the last century and a half, is the same man he misses so desperately that he can't pull himself together._

 _Because that's just it, isn't it? There is no Stefan without Damon. Not really._ )

* * *

"I'm going in." Stefan lurches forward, only to be pulled back by Caroline. "I can't just leave him in there!"

"No, you can't. But if you're going, so am I." Caroline's hand slides from his elbow to his wrist. "That's my best friend in there. Bonnie has been with me longer than anyone. I just lost my mom, I'm not going to lose her, too. Not if I can help it."

He stares down at her searchingly. "There's no guarantee any of us will get out."

"I know." She nods, smiling sadly. "I'd rather die surrounded by people I care about than live knowing I never tried to help them."

He swallows tightly, and then nods. "Okay." His fingers fold into hers.

" _Look!_ " Liv says.

They turn then, and watch as the beam of light hitting Bonnie sections off, and some of it filters into Damon's chest.

Stefan frowns. "What does _that_ mean?"

Liv's eyes widen. "He's sharing the load."

Caroline's face scrunches up. " _What?_ "

"Bonnie's coven is dead. They're feeding their power to her, but she's the only conduit for it. That's a lot to take. Probably too much. She doesn't have anyone here to help carry it all. If it all goes through her, it can burn her out. Like… Like a light bulb that's being hit with too much electricity. It just, it explodes. It's overloaded." She waves her hand, annoyed that she can't find the right way to put it into words. "It's like Damon's her coven."

"He's not a witch," Tyler points out.

"No, but he has magic in him." Her eyes dart thoughtfully. "We all do. Even you. Your werewolf curse isn't triggered, but the magic is still there, in you."

Tyler stares back at her a beat, and then he turns his gaze to Bonnie and Damon. Finally, his mouth pressed flat, he looks to Stefan. "Take us in with you."

Caroline shakes her head. "Tyler, you're human."

"Bonnie's my friend, too. I'm not asking. Either you bring me, or I'll find a way in myself."

With a sigh, Caroline looks back to Stefan, who gives a quick, short nod. " _Fine_ …" She looks between Tyler and Liv, and then holds a hand out in Liv's direction. "If you're sure?"

Liv bites her lip, and then nods. "Kai's my brother. This is my family's fault." She takes Caroline's hand.

Stefan pushes forward and wraps a hand around Tyler's arm.

Together, the four of them turn toward the hurricane ahead of them. "Take a deep breath," Stefan warns Tyler.

He nods, but Stefan can a fine tremor of fear run through him.

Caroline's fingers brush against Stefan's then, and he looks at her. "Ready?"

He takes her hand. "Ready."

* * *

( _When Caroline's dad leaves, the first person she goes to is Bonnie. She's a mess, she knows this. Her hair is all over the place, her eyes are puffy and raw, and she's not even wearing make-up, which, for Caroline, is a giant red flag._

 _Without any kind of preface, she blurts out, "He left. He just packed his car and_ left!" _And then she's crying again, and reaching for Bonnie, not so much asking as demanding a hug._

 _Bonnie doesn't miss a beat. She gathers Caroline up, pushes the door closed, and brings her up to her bedroom._

 _Caroline promptly crawls onto Bonnie's bed, happy to curl up in a little ball and cry her eyes out. Bonnie lets her._

 _It's a good twenty minutes before she unfolds herself, turns onto her back and stares at the ceiling. Her chest is too tight and tears are streaming down her cheeks, but she's quiet and in that weird space where she's still upset but she's taking a break from actually expressing it._

 _"I'm going to say something really insensitive, okay?" she asks, her voice croaky._

 _Bonnie is sitting next to her on the bed, legs crossed under her. "Okay…"_

 _Caroline turns her head to see her better. "What's it like only having one parent? I mean… I know you don't really remember your mom, but… Do you feel weird or different?"_

 _Bonnie stares at her a beat and then shrugs. "I used to. When I was younger, mostly. I'd see Elena with her parents and they always looked like that perfect family, you know?"_

 _Caroline scoffs. "Yeah."_

 _"I'd see her and Mrs. Gilbert or you and your mom and I'd just— I'd get this weird ache in my heart, like I was missing out on something. But, I mean, after a while I realized how lucky I was that I had Grams, and that helped. Sometimes." She stares down at her gently. "You'll be okay, Care. Your dad loves you, he's just figuring out his life right now. I mean, it's not great timing and I know you're hurting, but… He still wants to be in your life. That's something, right?"_

 _"I know he doesn't have feelings for my mom anymore. I know he has Steve and he loves him and whatever. But… I feel like he left me, too, you know? Like I wasn't worth staying for."_

 _Shaking her head, Bonnie turns herself over and lays next to her, reaching an arm out to pull Caroline into a hug. "Sometimes parents suck."_

 _Caroline let out a hiccup of a laugh. "Yeah. They do."_

 _Bonnie rubs her back. "You'll always have me, okay?"_

 _Closing her eyes, Caroline buries her face against Bonnie's shoulder. "Okay."_ )

* * *

The group falls to the ground in a heap, bleeding and struggling to catch their breath. Stefan is on his back, Caroline sprawled on top of him, head on his chest, her face a myriad of weeping scrapes that are slow to heal. Beside them, Liv and Tyler are tangled together, groaning. There's a long gash from the corner of Tyler's left eyebrow down to his chin; blood smears across his cheek, and then Liv's shoulder as they pull apart.

The first thing Stefan sees when he gets his feet under him is Kai, face cracked in places, his cheek pieced open like the veins of a rippling lightening strike. But he's smiling, a sinister smirk that sends an icy bolt of worry down Stefan's chest.

He turns his gaze to Damon then, whose hands are coupled with Bonnie's, his head tipped back; gauzy, white eyes peering ahead. Damon looks a little worse for wear, bleeding in places, his clothes hanging askew where they've been torn. More worrisome, however, is the greying of his skin that's slowly climbing along his neck.

"How do we do it?" he says to Liv. "How do we help them?"

" _Oh_ …" Caroline is standing next to Bonnie, her eyes squinted a little against the glare of the light. Her hand is extended toward Bonnie's face, her cheek specifically, where her skin has split open in a mirror image of Kai's. Tears spring to Caroline's eyes. "I'm so sorr—" Just as her hand lands on Bonnie's shoulder, part of the beam splits off and hits Caroline. She stumbles, and her hand falls, separating them once more. Surprised, she looks at them.

Liv grimaces as she stands up. "Hate to point out the obvious, but that's definitely going to be a part of it."

"So, we hold hands and sing kumbaya?" Tyler snorts.

"Not exactly." Liv nods toward Damon. "You see his lips?"

Stefan turns, focuses is on Damon's face and realizes— "He's talking."

"Chanting," Liv corrects. "So, yeah, we're going to hold hands and chant. And that's going to bind us to Bonnie. All of that power is going to circulate through every one of us and into Kai."

"And that'll save her?" Caroline asks, hopeful but worried.

Liv meets her eyes. "It'll give her a fighting chance."

With a nod, Caroline moves to the side. "That's all I need to know."

Stefan moves so he's across from Caroline and next to Damon. He reaches a hand out and takes hers. She smiles up at him gently.

Tyler circles around to stand next to Bonnie, Liv on the other side of Damon. He holds a hand out to her and wonders, "What's the chant? Fair warning, my Latin's a little rusty..."

"It's a bit of a tongue twister, but don't worry. Once you start, it'll come naturally..." Liv starts them off, repeating the chant over and over again.

The others are slow to follow her. Caroline moves her lips but doesn't speak until she's sure she's got it.

Once the group has a good handle on it, Liv raises her free hand to hover just over Damon's and with a nod to the others, she makes contact.

Like a cord, light reaches out and plugs itself into Liv's chest. Her eyes turn a milky white, and her lips keeping moving.

A thread of her light reaches out to Tyler, but doesn't make contact. He glances at Stefan and Caroline and then turns his gaze to Bonnie. Without missing a beat in his chant, he rests a hand on her shoulder. Liv's light forms back together while a whole new beam angles off Bonnie's and attaches itself to Tyler.

Across from them, Caroline and Stefan each share a heavy look before the too lay their hands atop Bonnie and Damon, respectively.

Joined together, the light is fractured six ways, and Kai's smirk dims.

* * *

( _"It's mostly math today," Bonnie says, skipping any kind of normal greeting. She walks through the front door and starts for the dining room._

 _Tyler groans and, not for the first time, wishes he didn't have a black eye that was keeping him from going to school. At least if he was there, his teacher could walk him through the questions. Math was never his strong suit._

 _"It's fine," Bonnie says, climbing onto a chair and pulling her bag along with her._

 _"Easy for you to say. This stuff doesn't get messed up in your head."_

 _His mom calls it dyslexia, but his dad says he just needs to try harder._

 _"Well, I'll help where I can. We can use those football analogies like last time. That helped, right?"_

 _He shrugs and settles into a chair next to her._

 _Bonnie spreads out their homework, side by side, and pulls out two pencils, handing him one._

 _He takes it and taps it against the table absently. "Hey, Bon?"_

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"I, uh… Thanks for coming over and helping me with this junk."_

 _She smiles at him. "Sure."_

 _He stares at her a beat, her eyes a bright green and her smile wide and warm. Bonnie's the prettiest girl in their class. That's what Matt always says. And Tyler agrees, he does, he's just mostly thought of her as his friend. Sometimes though, sometimes he forgets that they're friends and thinks about how cool it would be to be something else. To hold her hand or kiss her cheek or just… something._

 _Before he can think about it too much more, his mom walks into the dining room. "Oh! Hello Bonnie. I didn't realize you were here. Are you helping Tyler with his homework?"_

 _"Hi, Mrs. Lockwood. Yeah, I just brought it over. I thought we could work on it together."_

 _"That's so nice of you." She smiles. "Well, I'll leave you to it. How about a snack though?"_

 _"Sure, that'd be nice. Thank you."_

 _As his mom walks off, Tyler rolls his eyes. "Suck up."_

 _Bonnie snorts and shakes her head at him. "Shut up. Just because_ you _don't have manners…"_

 _"I have manners," he defends._

 _"Yeah? Where'd you lose them?"_

 _He snorts. "Whatever." He sits forward on his chair and taps his book. "Let's get this over with, before my mom adopts you and I get sent to reform school or something."_

 _"Would I get my own wing?" she jokes._

 _He grins. "Sure."_

 _"Awesome. I'm in."_

 _Tyler laughs. And even though he really, really hates homework, he finds he's glad that it means Bonnie comes around. They really should hang out more._ )

* * *

Tyler opens his eyes to find himself in the same field, but different. The storm doesn't rage here. It's like a mirror of reality, an in-between. And here, Bonnie is aware of them. She looks at each of them, her eyes wide, brows hiked, and he feels his heart drop into his stomach. She's shocked to see them, shocked and touched. And he feels like dirt that she's actually surprised they're making an effort for her.

He can't stop chanting, he knows that, but he squeezes her shoulder a little.

She turns to him, her eyes soft and damp, and she nods, like she gets it.

He stares back at her, and he wishes he could say something. That he's sorry. That he wishes things were different. That they hadn't drifted apart in high school, still friends but in a distant way. Where she had the girls and he had Matt and they only came together for parties or because someone within the group was dating. He wishes he could tell her how much it meant to him that she was always there for him. That she was the only one to visit him that week he was out of school. That he appreciated that she never asked about the black eye, because she knew. She knew what happened, but she also knew he wasn't ready to talk about it. And maybe he never would be. But she was there. That silent support in his life. Always in the background, eager and willing to help, if ever he asked. And he should have. He should have asked more often. He should have _offered_ his help more often. But he didn't.

He regrets that.

He knows what it's like to throw yourself on the fire and hope no one sees you burning. He knows what it's like to have a parent but not feel like they care or want you. He knows what it's like to be on the outside looking in. And he knows that Bonnie didn't deserve any of it. She never has. She's only ever supported them, no matter how awful they were to her.

He plans on changing that.

He still wants out, to put Mystic Falls far behind him, but there are others way he can be there for her. Even if it's just a phone call or an offer to come out any time she needs help. The point is, he's not running away anymore, not if he can help it. Mystic Falls has too many bad memories. Too many ghosts. But that doesn't make Bonnie any less of his friend.

So, if they make it out of this, if she lives and he doesn't get burned alive by this magical flashlight, he's going to be better. He promises himself and her that. And he hopes she hears it.

* * *

( _"Who do you think misses you the most?" Bonnie wonders one day._

 _They've been in the prison world for three and a half months; the more time that passes, the less tolerable it all is._

 _"Isn't that obvious?" He flips a pancake and grins when it lands perfectly._

 _"I know Elena misses you, but… What about Stefan?"_

 _"What about him?"_

 _She levels him with a frown. "He's your brother. Don't you think he's in mourning?"_

 _He shrugs. "Half-mourning, half-cheering."_

 _She frowns. "I don't think so."_

 _"No?"_

 _"No. You had your ups and downs, but… Stefan always loved you. And you loved him. I know you miss him." She half-smiles. "You've made video messages for him."_

 _"So? I get bored sometimes. And the sound of my own voice is a nice break from yours."_

 _She rolls her eyes. "Just admit you miss your brother."_

 _Damon groans, exasperated. "Why…?"_

 _"Because."_

 _He frowns at her. "Well, who misses you then? What is there? There's Little Gilbert, he's probably using this as an excuse to get emo again. There's Donovan. Yet another reason for him to hate everything supernatural. Then there's Carebear—"_

 _"No one."_

 _Damon pauses. "Say again?"_

 _Bonnie takes a deep breath and lets it out on a sigh. "It's been three and a half months. If I had to guess, they're over it. Over me…"_

 _His brow furrows. "That's the limit? Nobody can mourn Bonnie Bennett longer than a few months? That doesn't sound particularly_ hopeful _, Bon-Bon… You wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?"_

 _Her shoulders hike. "I'm just saying… They've probably moved on."_

 _Damon scoffs. "We gotta work on your self-esteem issues."_

 _"Yeah?" She shakes her head, lips curled up in a faint smile. "You first."_ )

* * *

Standing on the open wound of the Earth, surrounded by faces she does and does not know, Bonnie suddenly realizes she is not alone.

Stefan and Caroline stand to her left, Liv and Tyler to her right, and Damon ahead.

And all of them are chanting. All of them have come together to support her, to help her. Their collected voices rise together, strong and dedicated.

She looks from one to the other, her eyes glinting with tears, and she wants to thank them. She wants to cry. She wants to gather them up into a hug and tell them how much it means to her that they're there, that they're trying, that they _care_.

Bonnie smiles, her mouth trembling, and looks to Damon, who grins back at her, happy and proud and full of _something_...

No. Not something.

- _of love_.

* * *

 _Bonnie is not forgotten._

 _Not lost._

 _Not sacrificed._

 _She is not fractured pieces of a person._

 _She is not broken wings nor shattered dreams._

 _She is not a shadow or a figment or a victim caught in a nightmare._

 _._

 _Bonnie is—_

 _._

 _Loved._

 _Wanted._

 _Appreciated._

 _Remembered._

 _Honored._

 _._

 _Bonnie is a daughter with a father._

 _A father that wishes better for her._

 _A father that regrets his mistakes._

 _A father that wants her to have a future._

 _( you matter )_

 _._

 _She is a granddaughter with a Grams._

 _A Grams that will not make the choice for her._

 _Who stands by her through thick and thin._

 _Who watches her every step, backward and forward._

 _Who cheers her on._

 _Who cries with and for her._

 _Who holds her hand and lifts her chin and stokes the fire of Bonnie's courage._

 _( be strong )_

 _._

 _She is a Bonnie with a Caroline._

 _A Caroline that wipes her tears._

 _That steps into the center of a storm and promises to weather it with her._

 _That risks her life, willing to die with and for her._

 _That will not lose her._

 _( not again )_

 _._

 _She is a Bonnie with a Tyler._

 _A Tyler that comes back._

 _That fights with all the human strength he has in him._

 _That stands up when others don't._

 _That doesn't call himself 'hero' but is one._

 _That eats her Oreos and accepts her friendship with a false 'whatever.'_

 _That is scared_

 _( so scared )_

 _And hurt_

 _( I can take it )_

 _But still, he stays._

 _( I won't leave you )_

 _._

 _She is a heart with a companion._

 _He is a dark soul._

 _He is a crow._

 _A scavenger._

 _He has searched for love and hope and want in frail arms and wandering eyes._

 _He finds it in a bruised heart, stitched together with Band Aids and scotch tape._

 _He finds it in a warrior._

 _A witch._

 _A woman beaten down by expectation and loss._

 _He finds it in his best friend._

 _In the strongest woman he's ever known._

 _( I love you )_

 _._

 _Bonnie is a witch with a coven._

 _She is surrounded by Bennetts._

 _By lost souls that were Forgotten and Used,_

 _That gave themselves to the Balance, to Others._

 _They are Her; she is Them._

 _Her coven is a lifetime of Bennetts._

 _It is a witch searching for redemption;_

 _a human with a wolf heart;_

 _a vampire spun gold with insecurity and sunshine;_

 _a vampire with gentle hands soaked in blood;_

 _a vampire tethered to misery and hope alike._

 _Her coven is both alive and dead,_

 _Ghosts and immortals,_

 _Humans fighting their limitations._

 _._

 _Bonnie is—_

 _Power._

 _Strength._

 _Hope._

 _Life._

 _Friendship._

 _Honor._

 _Hurt._

 _Survival._

 _( I don't want to die )_

* * *

Kai's soul splits from his body, leaving a grey husk to wither away in the dirt. His body turns to dust; it sinks into the muddy earth, swallowed by water. His soul, a sparking, swirling, mass of inky energy, twists and fights, desperate for a place to hide. To crawl beneath or inside of a rock and bide its time. But it has _none_. It floats between Bonnie and Damon, between the cradle of their bound hands. Ribbons of his soul move like arms and legs fighting to unfold, to create a body out of tacky, black liquid.

Light beams exit Bonnie, Damon, Liv, Tyler, Caroline, and Stefan, striking Kai's soul sharply. It _screams_. It cries out, trembling and stretching, reaching out, attempting to avoid the power that feeds itself into it. Holes form, burned through, leaving orange trails that eat away at it, like fire eating paper. His face forms in the center, mouth ghoulishly hung open. Liquid drips off, falling to the watery ground, where they sizzle and die, curls of smoke dissipating in their wake.

A shrill noise grows louder and louder, until it can't be heard any longer.

The ground shakes beneath them.

The chorus of chanting deepens.

The light brightens until it consumes everything.

( _everyone_ )

And then, it stops.

Kai's soul goes still; it hardens into a rock and then crumbles. It falls to the ground at their feet, swallowed by rain water, and joins the mud.

The light pulls back. It leaves Caroline first, then Stefan, Tyler, Liv, Damon, and finally, Bonnie to crawl back up toward the sky.

Around them, the chanting ends. Bennetts begin to fade from sight —their duty done— until only Sheila remains.

Bonnie turns to her Grams, excitement bursting in her chest. "We did it! _Grams!_ We did it!"

"You did." Sheila reaches out to take Bonnie's hands in her own. "Kai will never return. His soul has been eradicated."

Her shoulders slump with relief and she lets out a heavy sigh. " _Good_."

Sheila smiles gently. "It's time to make a choice, baby."

Bonnie's brow furrows. "But… I thought I did."

"Your friends have helped you carry this burden. Because of them, Kai didn't overpower you. But you carried our power in you. It's still there." She nods to Bonnie's chest. "Too much power—"

"Kills." Bonnie forces a smile even as her heart breaks. "Was it ever a choice?" she wonders.

"Of course." Sheila meets her eyes, sad and sorrowful. "You are stronger than you can ever know. _Believe_ that."

Before Bonnie can respond, she too is gone.

* * *

( _"Grams?"_

 _"Yes, baby."_

 _"Will you be with me forever?"_

 _"For as long as I possibly can..."_ )

* * *

Damon looks around, frowning. "So, that's it? Goodbye Kai and we can all go home?"

"Not exactly." Liv glances from him to Bonnie. "We're still tethered. Once we let go, we wake up."

"Wasn't aware I was sleeping…"

She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. We'll leave this plane… We're in the middle right now, where life and death meet. That's why we could see the witches."

"What happens when we go back?" Stefan wonders, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

Liv shakes her head. "Won't know 'til we're there."

"How do we leave?" Tyler asks.

Liv's gaze moves to Bonnie. "She has to let us go."

Bonnie turns then, and faces them. Her eyes dart over their faces, one at a time, and she smiles, just a little forced. "Thank you, all of you, for _everything_. I… I couldn't have done it without you."

"Bonnie…" Caroline walks toward her.

But Bonnie shakes her head, her heart squeezing.

"It's okay! _Really_." Caroline holds her arms out, expecting a hug. "Kai's gone now. We can go home. _Right?_ "

Bonnie stares at her. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"For what?"

Bonnie shakes her head. "I thought I could do it."

Caroline's face falls. "But you did. _We_ did." Her hands ball into fists. "I just got you back… It's not supposed to end like this."

Bonnie tries to smile, but it just doesn't work. So, instead, she reaches for Caroline's hands, unfurls her fingers and holds on tight. "You are going to do _amazing_ things. Right?"

"Don't say goodbye," Caroline whispers. " _Please_."

"No goodbyes," she agrees. And then she pulls Caroline in and wraps her in a hug. She presses her face to Caroline's shoulder and swallows down the ache in her heart. "Life sucks sometimes, you know? But we get through it." She nods. "We get back up."

Caroline shakes, her tears soaking into Bonnie's shoulder, and her arms banding around Bonnie a little tighter.

And then Bonnie takes a deep breath, and lets her go.

With a whimper of a cry, Caroline dissipates from view.

Stefan blinks, and then looks to Bonnie. "Is she...?"

"She's okay. Or, she will be." Bonnie wipes at her wet cheeks. "Look, Stefan, we... We've had a rocky friendship. Things haven't been easy. But I trust you. That you'll do the right thing in the end. And now I'm trusting you with her. That whatever happens, you'll be there. As a friend, as more, I don't care. Just promise me you'll always look out for Caroline."

Stefan meets her heavy gaze and nods solemnly. "I promise."

Bonnie lifts her chin. "Okay."

Stefan fades from sight.

Taking a deep breath, she turns to Liv then. "I know it was hard for you. Whatever Kai was, he was still your brother. What you did took courage. I guess the only thing I can says is… _thank you_."

Liv is awkward as she chews her lip and lets her hair fall to cover half her face. "Yeah, well, I owed you."

Bonnie smiles. "Not anymore."

Liv nods, before she too is gone.

"And then there were three," Tyler says, drawing her eye.

Bonnie shakes her head. "This is the part where I tell you I'm proud of you."

He shrugs it off. "Nothing to be proud of. I just did what you _always_ do. It was about time I stepped up."

"Maybe. But… I appreciate it."

"I should've done it sooner. And I will. _Next time_."

Bonnie softens, even as her heart squeezes in her chest. "You're a good friend, Tyler."

He grins, warm and familiar. "You, too, Bon."

Bonnie stares at where he once stood, now empty, and takes a deep breath.

"Why do I get the feeling these ominous goodbyes are a bad sign?" Damon wonders, the only one left.

She smiles, humorless. "When aren't they?" Turning to him, she shakes her head. "It was too much. I didn't learn my lesson after Silas."

Damon crosses the space between them. "I heard Sheila. You've still got that power inside you. There's gotta be a way to even the odds here, give yourself a fighting chance."

She sighs, her face falling. "Damon…"

" _Don't_." He shakes his head.

"Sixty years or six minutes, remember?" Her mouth trembles. "Time's up."

He reaches for her, his hands gently folding around her shoulders. "Hey—"

She stares up at him searchingly, tears overflowing. "What you said before…" Her voice cracks as she whispers, "I love you, too."

His face falls. "Bon—" He starts to fade from view, and he knows it. He looks down at himself and shakes his head. "No. _No!_ "

Bonnie closes her eyes, and only opens them when she knows he won't be there.

Surrounded by nothing and no one, she laughs. Just once. Then she wipes her cheeks and lifts her chin.

( _be strong_ )

Behind her, a light grows. Heat warms her back. Inviting.

( _come home_ )

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **author's note** : _hey look, it's about to be four parts. couldn't help it. these chapters get crazy long in the editing process, sorry. but the fourth chapter is the last, i swear. it all gets tied up there. or, i guess you could stop reading here and just leave it up to your imagination... ;)_

 _also, quick reminder that i have a ko fi account that you can link to via my tumblr (sarcasticfina), just click on the 'buy me a coffee' button on the sidebar. i'm currently accepting donations, most of which are going toward getting a new computer, because mine is toast and i'm using my moms to get by. not a lot of fun. so if you can, please do try to leave a little something. it's totally up to you how much you want, or can, donate. anything helps!_ ❤

 _thanks so much for reading! if you can, please try to leave a review!_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	4. sacrifice

**chapter rating** : pg-13/teen  
 **word count** : 17,710

* * *

 **note:** _happy (belated) birthday, nisha!_

* * *

...

* * *

 **iv.**

Matt was five years old when he met Bonnie Bennett. They shared a table in their kindergarten class, along with two other kids. One had red hair and freckles; he moved out of town the following summer and they never saw him again. The other was a girl who didn't talk much. She kept her head down and probably said only a handful of words to them over the course of the year they spent sharing that table. Bonnie sat directly across from Matt. She was nice to everyone she met. Always polite and friendly and smiling.

The first time he saw her, she was wearing a t-shirt with a sunflower on the front. They always make him think of her. He's not much of a flower guy. He's never seen the point in giving someone something that's going to die. It seems pointless, maybe even cruel, to pluck something up, cut it off at its roots, and give it to someone else to care for and admire until eventually it just… withers up and dies. And once it does, it goes in the trash. Because it's only nice, it's only pretty, when it's alive, when it's at its best. Still, he gives flowers to people that like them. Elena when they were dating. His mother on her birthday and Mother's Day. His sister when she was having a rough time. And for funerals. He's been to his fair share of those. He's been to Bonnie's too, once upon a time.

He wonders if he's going to again.

* * *

( _Matt's got his best clothes on. The same that his mom makes him wear for Sunday church. He's got all his buttons done up to his neck, his shirt tucked in, and he avoided all the mud puddles on the walk to school. He's regretting it a bit now, sitting at a table with his name on it, fidgeting in his little plastic chair. Mrs. O, his teacher, said they wouldn't be going out to play for a few hours. First, they were going to get to know their tablemates._

 _Matt doesn't recognize anyone at his table._

 _He knows Tyler from pre-school, but he's sitting on the other side of the room._

 _Everybody's name is written on a piece of paper that's taped down on top of the table where they're supposed to sit._

 _Kyle sits to his left. Matt doesn't like to judge, but he looks like a paste-eater._

 _Mary-Ellen sits on his right. She wears her hair so that it falls over her face. If he had to pick her out in a crowd, he'd point to whoever has the most hair._

 _And Bonnie, well, she isn't there yet._

 _It's five minutes past the start of class and Matt's wondering if maybe he's going to be stuck with Kyle and Mary-Ellen for the rest of the year. He's not looking forward to it._

 _In fact, he wonders if Mrs. O will notice if he peels his name off his table and puts it on Tyler's…_

 _The door swings open then and Mrs. O stops mid-sentence. The whole class turns to look at the new arrivals._

 _A woman with curly hair, brown skin, and a red-lipped grin waves at them before she turns to the little girl next to her. "You're gonna be okay?"_

 _The girl nods at her, making her springy hair bounce. "Uh-huh."_

 _"And you're gonna be right here when I get back?"_

 _"Right here."_

 _"Okay then." She bends, presses a kiss to the girl's forehead, and then taps her shoulder. "Go on, then. Say 'hello' to your new class."_

 _The girl turns a bright smile on everyone and raises a hand. "Hello, I'm Bonnie Bennett."_

 _"What do we say, class?" Mrs. O prompts._

 _"Hello Bonnie," the class choruses back._

 _Bonnie crosses the room, a lunch-box in hand, and climbs into the one chair still available. She looks down at her name, taped in front of her, and traces each letter with her finger. And then she looks up, and the full force of her smile hits Matt right in the chest. Warmth floods in him and he returns her smile with a grin of his own._

 _"Hi!" she chirps brightly._

 _"Hey," he says._

 _"Okay, class…" Mrs. O continues, and Matt turns his attention to her._

 _Mrs. O tells them they're going to do an art project, and to get out the pencil crayons for it._

 _Matt panics a little. He didn't bring any pencil crayons. He's pretty sure the only thing he brought with him was the lunch his sister made for him._

 _While everybody else digs around in their bag to get their things out, he sits in his seat, wiggling around uncomfortably. He can feel the stinging in his eyes that means he's about to cry, but he blinks fast to make it stop. He looks across the room to where Tyler is sitting and tries to catch his eye. Matt wonders if Mrs. O will get mad if he borrows a few pencil crayons from someone else and chews on his lip, unsure if he should try._

 _Mrs. O hands out pieces of paper to everyone. When she stops at his table, he looks up at her, and wants to ask her if it's okay, but the words won't come out. He remembers his mom telling him to make sure he packed everything in his bag. What if Mrs. O tells her he didn't? Is he gonna get in trouble when he gets home?_

 _Mrs. O walks away and Matt stares down at his blank piece of paper. Kyle and Mary-Ellen are already drawing. He can't see what's on Mary-Ellen's paper because her hair's covering it, but he's pretty sure Kyle's drawing the Power Rangers._

 _Matt wonders if he can go to the bathroom. Maybe if he stays there long enough that by the time he comes back, they'll be doing something else._

 _Just as his hands lifts from his lap to ask, a blue pencil crayon rolls across the table and stops in front of him._

 _He blinks at it and then lifts his head slowly._

 _Bonnie's smiling at him. "We can share," she says. "My Grams packed mine."_

 _He swallows down the frog in his throat and nods jerkily. "I forgot."_

 _"That's okay." She pushes her pack of pencil crayons into the middle of the table so he can reach them. "I have lots."_

 _Matt picks up the blue one and lets it hover over his paper. "What're we drawing?"_

 _"Our favoritest thing," she says. "I'm gonna draw my Grams. And my bike. And maybe Miss Cuddles."_

 _He nods, and taps the pencil against the paper. "Who's Miss Cuddles?"_

 _Bonnie lights up and Matt feels something warm and comforting unfurl in his stomach. The panic of before ebbs, and he listens to her chatter on about her teddy bear. He tells her about Chubs, the stuffed gorilla his sister got for him with its missing eye and patched up leg. And from that moment on, he's not so worried. He's made a new friend, and she's pretty awesome. )_

* * *

Matt is on patrol when Elena calls him. He answers the phone with a frown. "Hey, Elena. I can't really talk. There's some weird weather anomaly happening and—"

"Matt, it's Bonnie."

His heart thuds against his chest. " _What?_ "

"Where are you?"

"I'm in town. Just passing the laundromat. Where—?" He slams the brakes when he realizes Elena is standing in the street, right in front of his truck. "Jesus _Christ_." He throws his hands up from the steering wheel in a 'what the hell!?' fashion, but she ignores it, circling the truck to hop into the passenger seat.

She slams it shut. "The weird weather, was it out by the abandoned housing complex? Near Wickery Bridge?"

He nods. "Yeah. We've been getting non-stop calls about a hurricane or something."

Elena nods. "It's Bonnie."

" _How?_ "

"I don't know. Tyler called Damon. I overheard chunks of it. I guess Bonnie's taking on Kai and—"

Matt's foot presses down hard on the gas pedal. He flicks the switch on his siren and lights and takes off. He weaves into the wrong lane to get past a few cars and takes a corner a little too sharply, but he stays on the road, and that's all that matters.

Elena pulls her seatbelt on, probably more out of instinct than anything.

"You said Kai. Kai's _dead_." He glances at her, scowling. "I helped Damon bury the damn body. He took his head off." He also joked about finding someone who could shrink Kai's decapitated head so he could hang it off the rear view mirror. Actually, Matt's not entirely sure it was a joke, but Damon did eventually toss the head into the hole.

"I meant to tell you…" She sighs. "I saw him last night. After the party at the Grill, when I called you."

"Yeah, I was on patrol. I asked you to wait."

"I know, and I told you I'd be fine…" She chews her lip. "I wasn't. I ran into Kai."

"And you're okay?"

"Yeah. He blew up a few dumpsters, but he didn't do anything _to_ me. It was like…"

"He was scaring you. To send a message." He doesn't add that the message probably wasn't for Elena at all. Matt didn't know Kai well. He knew _of_ him and he's heard bits and pieces from Damon or Bonnie, enough to gather that the guy was a grade-A sociopath. If Kai's history says anything, though, it's more likely his target was bigger than Elena. He was likely trying to get Bonnie's attention and, given there was a her-sized hurricane happening, she must've received that message.

" _Yeah_. So, I ran," Elena says. "I called Damon and I drove out to the boarding house. Woke Stefan and Caroline up. Damon showed a little while later. Then Bonnie. And— I'm sorry. I should've thought to call you, too."

"It's fine," he dismisses. He's used to being the last one pulled into things. He won't lie, it stings, but now's not the time to get annoyed with how people rank him on a 'need to know' basis. He's in on things now and he plans to do something. "What happened?"

" _Nothing_. Bonnie sealed up the house so we wouldn't have any unexpected visitors and we all just kind of went to bed. Figured we'd deal with it in the morning. I thought she stayed, too…" She shakes her head and rubs her fingers over her temples. "I guess she left. Tyler said something about finding Luke and that Bonnie stayed to fight Kai. Damon took off to help. Then Caroline and Stefan went, too. And I started to go, but… I stopped. We didn't have any weapons. We were just running in blind. And Kai, he's _strong_."

"So, you called me?" He's a little surprised, frankly. As far as powerhouses go, he knows he's low on the list.

"Well, you _do_ have a whole weapons cache in the back of your truck," she reminds wryly.

His mouth hitches up with a faint smile. "Around here, you need to."

"Yeah, well, it's about to come in handy."

Matt takes a deep breath, and nods. "Yeah, or Bonnie's taken care of it for us." He presses his foot down hard on the gas, and hopes he's in time.

( _please, let him be on time )_

* * *

( _"Hey!"_

 _Matt looks up from the homework spread out in front of him, brow furrowed and mouth set in a line. Bonnie is standing at the screen door._

 _"Oh, hey, Bon." He perks up and waves her in. "What're you doing out here?"_

 _She shrugs and lets the door snap closed behind her. Crossing the kitchen, she slides into a chair across from him. "I was heading over to Grams, thought I'd drop by, see what you were doing."_

 _"Just studying. If I don't keep my grades up, Tanner starts bitching that he'll have to cut me from the team."_

 _"Sucky." She sits back in her chair and stares at him._

 _With a sigh, he smiles at her. "So, why'd you really drop by?"_

 _She grins slowly. "Well… I was thinking of joining lifeguarding this summer. Elena's going on vacation and Caroline says the chlorine isn't great for her hair. Also, I thinks he's joining some cheerleading camp._ So _…"_

 _"So, you were hoping your_ third _best friend might be up for it?"_

 _"Hey!" she laughs. "It's a sliding scale."_

 _"Oh yeah?"_

 _"Yes! Like, if you choose to do this, you officially surpass both Elena and Caroline for first place."_

 _"Until they do something?"_

 _"Sure, but at least you're guaranteed the summer as my number one." She wiggles her eyebrows hopefully._

 _Matt laughs. "All right, fine. I need the money anyway."_

 _"Yes!" She fist-pumps and settles back in her chair, smiling happily. "I already filled out most of the paperwork for signing up." She opens her purse then and starts pulling it out._

 _Matt shakes his head. "Seriously?"_

 _"What? I was just thinking ahead."_

 _"Uh-huh."_

 _Hopping off the chair, she winks at him. "Trust me, this will be the best summer. Just you and me and—"_

 _"—and a bunch of idiots pretending to drown so you'll give them mouth-to-mouth."_

 _Bonnie rolls her eyes and snorts. "They wish." She waves a dismissive hand. "Anyway, the cut-off date for getting paperwork in is next week. So, just look it over and drop it off at the pool."_

 _He hums. "Is that it?"_

 _"No, I was thinking we could go to the Grill, share some fries or something. You in?"_

 _"Are you buying?"_

 _"Well, since you just agreed to waste your whole summer sitting next to a pool instead of swimming in it,_ sure _. It's on me."_

 _Leaving his homework behind, he stands. Content, he hooks an arm around her shoulders as they walk to the door. "Deal."_ )

* * *

By the time Matt and Elena reach the hill, the storm has passed; a muddy wasteland is left in its wake. Laying in the flattened, watery grass are six people spread out in a perfect circle. All of them are either unconscious or, worse, _dead_. He's not really sure.

Matt jumps from his truck, leaving the door open as he races across the ground, feet slipping and sliding in muddy earth. He falls to his knees at Bonnie's side. She's bleeding from wounds on her shoulder, stomach, and a large burn across her thigh. Her cheek, too, is split open like splintered glass.

"Bon…" He presses two finger to her neck, searching for a pulse. When he can't find it right away, his heart jumps up into his throat. "Bonnie, come on… Wake up."

"Oh my God…" Elena is kneeling next to Damon, who seems to mirror Bonnie's position exactly. Next to him is Stefan on one side and Liz on the other. Everyone seems to be bleeding from tiny lacerations across their skin, their clothing torn and soaked through with water and patches of blood.

Elena brushes her hands over Damon's face and through his hair, which, strangely, appear to be speckled with threads of silver. "I… I think he's alive," she whispers.

Matt frowns and returns his attention to Bonnie. He's found her pulse, but it's thready, barely there. "We gotta call this in."

"No," Elena says, turning to him quickly.

He glares back at her, a flood of anger washing through him. "Elena, Bonnie's barely got a pulse. Whatever happened here, it knocked everyone on their asses. We don't even know if everyone's okay."

"How are we supposed to _explain_ this?" she worries, looking around at the mud bog the ground has become and the collection of unconscious, possibly dead, people.

"Compel them," he snaps, before digging out his cell phone.

"Wait!"

"Bonnie can't wait. She's going to die out here if we don't—"

"Call Jo."

"What?"

" _Jo!_ " Elena stares at him insistently. "She's a doctor _and_ a witch. She'll know what to do."

He hesitates for a moment, and then a groan to his left draws his eye.

Caroline is waking up. Matt's heart hiccups and a sigh of relief leaves him.

Caroline blinks, her brow furrowed, and stares up at the sky. And then she winces, and turns her head, searching for—

"Bonnie!" She sits up abruptly, her eyes wide, and turns herself over onto her knees, sinking into the muck a little as she moves a little closer. "We need to wake her up! She was saying _goodbye_. She can't…" Her face crumbles and her eyes spark with tears as she looks at Matt pleadingly.

"It's okay. Jo can help. Right, Matt?" Elena says, staring at him, her brows hiked.

Caroline blinks, confused. "Jo…? Okay. Fine. Whatever's fastest."

Matt nods, and thumbs through his contacts.

Caroline stares down at Bonnie, chewing her lip. "I can barely hear her heart..."

The phone rings once, twice, three times, until finally, a feminine voice answers. "Hello?"

"Ask her where she is," Caroline demands.

Jo seems to hear her, because she answers, "I'm in town. Why? What's happened?"

"We need help. Bonnie's knocked out. Caroline thinks she's dying. And the others…" Matt looks around at everyone, still unconscious. "I don't know what happened but—"

"It was Kai," Caroline insists.

Jo's breath catches.

"But, he's dead. He's not coming back..." Caroline stares down at Bonnie solemnly. "She made sure of that."

"The boarding house," Jo says. "Get everyone there. I'll do what I can."

Matt nods and hangs up. "We need to move everyone to the boarding house."

Caroline starts to push herself up, but her knees give out on her and she slams back down into the ground. Matt reaches for her, but she shakes her head. "I'm _fine_. I can do this! I _need_ to do this." She casts a worried look at Bonnie and then climbs to her feet, her legs wobbly beneath her. "Take her to the boarding house. Elena and I will get the others."

Matt hesitates. "You're sure?"

She nods. " _Go_. Between Tyler's truck and Stefan's car, we'll be fine. Please, Matt… She doesn't have a lot of time."

Matt takes a deep breath. He bends and scoops Bonnie up, his arm tucked beneath her back and under her knees. His feet slip in the mud here or there, but he manages to get her down the hill and into the backseat of his truck without much trouble. He hops into the driver's seat, casts one last look at everyone behind him, and then he guns his truck and heads back for town.

Bonnie is his priority. He'll just have to hope for the best for everyone else.

* * *

( _Sometimes, after the pool is closed and their life-guarding duties are done, they sneak back in and soak in the cool water. Matt will swim from one end of the pool and back, over and over, but Bonnie just floats. Her arms spread out, gently rocking to the waves that lap at her from his passing movements._

 _When he's tired and out of breath, his arms a little heavy, he'll make his way over to her and, together, they'll float, staring up at a star-filled sky._

 _He wonders sometimes, where her mind wanders when she's like this. Is it good places or bad? Bonnie has a way of staying positive and supportive even through the worst of things. He knows she has her own baggage, with her mom leaving and her dad never sticking around too long. Matt knows the feeling. She's got her Grams and he's got Vicki and, really, they've got each other._

 _"Hey..." He brushes his hand through the water, the tips of his fingers meeting hers._

 _Her head turns toward him, hair floating all around her like a dark halo. "Hey." Her mouth turns up at the corner and then she slaps her hand down and water sprays his face. Bonnie giggles._

 _"That's how you wanna play it?" he asks, already grinning._

 _She looks at him, laughing, with happiness flooding her face. And then she's swimming away from him, shrieking as he gives chase._

 _Later, when they're both tired, they'll climb out of the pool, towel off, and drive through town in his beat-up truck. She won't want to go home right away, instead leaving the window open, a cool breeze making their still damp skin cold._

 _They have all summer for this, he thinks. For late night swims and quiet drives, the faint sound of the radio playing in the background. Elena is traveling with her family. Caroline is at cheerleading camp. It's two months of just him and Bonnie and, if he's honest, he likes it that way. There's no school, no girlfriend, no pressure. It's just him and his best friend and a taste of freedom he rarely gets._

 _When life drags him back in, with school deadlines and football practice and bills marked 'Overdue' in bright, angry ink, he'll still find himself driving out to Bonnie's place to see if she wants to get away for a little while. And she'll hop in his truck so they can drive nowhere and everywhere and forget for a while that there's anything else._

 _In a way, she's his safe haven. He hopes he's that for her, too._ )

* * *

"I need help!" Matt shouts as he crosses the threshold of the boarding house.

"In here," Jo calls back, stepping out of the parlor. "Do you know what happened? Why she's like this?"

He shakes his head. "All Caroline said was that Bonnie destroyed Kai. She created a storm or something. Kai's dead and everybody else is passed out in a field on the other side of town."

"Passed out how?"

He frowns. "I don't know. They were all laid out in a circle. I didn't get a whole lot of details. Caroline can explain when she gets here."

Jo pressed her fingers to Bonnie's neck and frowns. "You said there was a storm? Can you describe it?"

"How is this supposed to help?" Matt sighs, exasperated.

"Because, I need to know if all of this is because of magic. Did she overextend? Was she hit with something? Is this another of Kai's tricks?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know. We got calls about a hurricane. About a beam of line coming down from the sky. When I got out there, half the field looked like it was burned up, the rest was soaked in water. It was like a bog; the whole hill was just a mudslide."

"A beam of light?" Jo's brows hike. "And they were in a circle, like… like covens do when they're trying to do a spell."

"What? But, Bonnie and Liv are the only witches. How can—"

"Vampires are only alive because of magic. It's inside them. It's why when siphons turn, they have magic, they're siphoning it off themselves."

"What about Tyler? He's not a werewolf anymore."

"His switch hasn't been flipped, but he still has the gene. The magic is still there." She nods, her eyes darting around as she pulls the pieces together.

Matt frowns. "So, what, she made them her coven?"

"No, they must've offered. To help her. To kill Kai and… to save her."

"From _what?_ "

Jo stares down at Bonnie. "I think she destroyed him. Not just his physical body, but his soul. And that… That kind of magic would destroy any witch. The kind of power she'd have to channel. It would be too much for one person to handle."

"But, if they were her coven like you said, then she has a chance, right?"

Jo raises her head and meets his eyes.

" _Right?_ "

* * *

( _The first time Matt says goodbye to Bonnie, he feels a part of himself fracture. They stand around a stump, saying farewell to a girl who has done nothing but give and give and give. And he_ hates _it. He hates everyone who had a hand in this. Everyone who didn't stop her. Everyone who convinced her that this was the only way._

 _Some days, Matt can't remember what life was like before the supernatural invaded. Before his life became a never-ending list of enemies that were too strong for him to take on. He's never felt more human than when he's standing in front of a dead tree, gripping his hands together as they shake, biting his lip to stifle a sob, knowing that he will never see Bonnie again._

 _She was the second friend he ever made and with everyone else turning into werewolves and vampires, she was the only one he still felt like he understood. His last link to any kind of normal. She was the voice of reason that kept him grounded._

 _He doesn't know what to do with himself. For years, when things got rough, he had Bonnie to lean on, to talk to. As much as Tyler is his best friend, they're always struggled with talking about the realities they each have going on at home. So, when Matt needed to break down, Bonnie was there to catch him. When Elena dropped him, Bonnie was there to tell him he'd get through it. When his mom skipped town and Vicki was struggling through a drug haze, Bonnie was right there, a pillar at his shoulder._

 _He feels like he fell down on the job. The one time she needs him to help her, to support her back, and he wasn't there. She's gone. Another casualty to all this supernatural bullshit. And he wishes he could destroy all of it. That he could take a match to every terrible thing that's infiltrated his town, turning it and everyone he knows inside out._

 _It's not right, and it's not fair._

 _She deserved better._ )

* * *

Matt settles Bonnie in Damon's bedroom. He lays her out on the bed and hovers as Jo looks her over. There's a lot of muttered medical jargon that he doesn't understand or care about. All he wants to know is how to reverse it. Minutes pass with Jo leaving modern medicine behind. She takes Bonnie's hand, holds it between two of her own, and starts speaking Latin. A wind kicks up in the room, ruffling the curtains and sending Jo's hair swinging. The lights dim and brighten, flashing a few times before mellowing once more.

It all makes Matt uncomfortable. He's seen Bonnie spin her magic before. Strangely, it's a little easier to take than what the others do. The only blood she sheds is her own; her nosebleeds a familiar sight by now. There's blood caked to her chin from one already, but the other injuries are much worse.

Finally, when Jo sits back, it's with a sigh.

" _Well?_ " Matt bites anxiously.

"It's what I thought." She stands from the bed. "She's taken on too much. She was a magical conduit and it's... burned her out."

"So, what do we have to do?"

Jo's gaze falls a moment, and then she looks at him. "I'm sorry, Matt."

" _No_..." He backs up, shaking his head, his eyes are already burning with tears.

"People don't come back from this."

"You don't know Bonnie," he grits out through clenched teeth. "You don't know what she's been through. What she's _fought!_ You don't know how many times she's died and come back." He pushes past her and kneels next to the bed, taking up one of Bonnie's hands, cold and limp in his own. "Bonnie, hey, it's Matt... You need to listen to me, okay?"

She doesn't move, completely still in a way that makes his stomach bottom out.

"You're a fighter, Bon. Every day of your life. Humans, vampires, werewolves, witches, _hybrids_ , you've fought all of it. You faced death and you came right back. Well, now you gotta do it again. Okay?" He rubs her knuckles with his thumb. "I _know_ you. I know how strong you are. You've never given up on me, not once, and I'm not giving up on you. This is _not_ how you die. _Fight_ , Bonnie. Not for me and not for anybody else. Just for you."

There's no answer, but Matt refuses to believe she can't or won't hear him.

This is _Bonnie._

He won't give up. Not on her.

* * *

( _A month after Bonnie returns, and two weeks into their unspoken relationship, Elena shows up on Damon's doorstep. She's nervous and excited and hopeful. He's got his jacket on and his keys in hand._

 _"Oh, is this a bad time?" she wonders, her brows hiked. "Were you going somewhere?"_

 _He pauses, lips pursed. "I was. What's up?"_

 _"I was hoping we could talk..."_

 _Swallowing a sigh, he backs up and pushes the door open wider._

 _She passes him and makes her way into the parlor. "So, I've been doing a lot of thinking and I've made a decision."_

 _Damon follows after her, his brow furrowed. "About?"_

 _"My memories."_

 _He pauses, his stomach twisting up in knots. He glances away, briefly, before looking back at her. "You should leave it alone."_

 _"What?" She turns to him, surprised._

 _He nods. "Leave the block in place. You've got a good life going for now. You don't need to turn that upside down, not for this."_

 _"But..." She shakes her head. "I don't understand. I thought you'd want this. That you'd be happy..."_

 _"Listen, Elena." He crosses to her and stares down at her apologetically. "I've done a lot of thinking, too. And after everything in the prison world, after everything that's happened... I've learned a few things."_

 _"Like what?" She hugs her arms around herself._

 _"Who I was when we were together, who you became, it wasn't right. We influence each other and not in a good way. You were right before, when you said I was a monster and you couldn't understand how or why we'd ever end up together..." He frowns. "I don't think we were supposed to."_

 _She blinks quickly against the sting of tears. "You really think that?"_

 _"I think you're a happier, better person when I'm not in your life. And I think I am, too."_

 _"Wow." She looks away, her brows raised. "Uh, okay. I... Thanks for being honest, I guess." She pushes past him to leave._

 _Damon sighs to himself before turning. "So, you'll leave it alone then?"_

 _She stops in the doorway and looks back at him. "I don't know. I don't like not remembering parts of my life, even if they did change me. Besides, maybe you're wrong. Maybe that's exactly who I'm supposed to be, with or without you."_

 _He purses his lips but doesn't say anything, and eventually, she walks away._

 _Damon rolls his eyes to himself. "That went well..."_

 _Twenty minutes later, he's in Bonnie's house, pressing her against a wall, her dress rucked up against her waist and her legs around him. Distantly, he hopes Elena never remembers. It's a selfish thought, he knows. But he doesn't want to deal with the fallout. Logic tells him it's an inevitability he can't avoid, but all he does is bury his face against Bonnie's neck and hope for the best._ )

* * *

Damon abruptly opens his eyes to find himself staring at clear, blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. The world penetrates his ears like a jackhammer. The whistle of the wind, the flapping of a bird's wings, the slosh of mud under shoes, the too-loud heartbeat of a human nearby. He groans and turns his head.

"He's awake." Elena crouches down next to him, tucking her hair back, behind her ears, as she stares at him searchingly. "Hey… Damon, can you hear me?"

"Better, can you _stand?_ " Caroline stands above, hands on her hips, impatient as ever. "We don't have time to waste. You're the last one to wake up and we need to _move_."

"Give him a second, Care."

"We don't _have_ a second. Bonnie is—"

" _Bonnie!_ " Damon sits up, his eyes darting to the empty space in front him, panicked. "Where is she?"

"With Matt," Caroline tells him. "He took her back to the boarding house."

His face screws up with distaste. "What the hell is Boy Wonder going to do?"

"Bring her to _Jo_. She barely had a pulse, we needed to do _something_."

He pushes himself up onto wobbly knees that abruptly give out on him. He falls, landing gracelessly in the mud. Snarling at his sudden weakness, he grits his teeth.

"It takes a minute to readjust." Caroline doesn't bother reaching for him, letting Elena hook his arm around her shoulders and help him stand.

"We'll meet you at the boarding house," Tyler calls out from his truck, leaning against it while Liv sits slumped in the passenger seat.

Caroline nods to him and then hurries ahead to the car. Stefan is in the driver's seat, the engine already running.

"How'd she look?" Damon asks Caroline as he and Elena finally reach the car.

She frowns, her eyes falling. "Not good."

His chest squeezes, but he says nothing.

Caroline and Elena climb into the back seat and Damon drops into the passenger side. His body feels like its been runover a few times, but that's the last thing on his mind.

As Stefan pulls away from the swampy field and races down the dirt road, Damon looks back to find Caroline staring out the window, her face clouded with worry, cheeks ruddy, and tears glinting in her eyes.

"She'll be okay," Damon says, awkward with his comfort.

Caroline glances at him, her eyes sharp. "How do you know?"

He shrugs, and then turns back around. "It's Bonnie."

"Yeah." Caroline sighs. "That's what I'm worried about."

* * *

( _Stefan understands sacrifice. He's just used to it being his own. For the greater good, for Damon, for Elena. He throws himself on the pyre because there are days when he can't reconcile the things he's done with who he is and what he wants. His guilt eats at him. If he thinks about who he's hurt, his happiness feels unearned. So, he walks himself toward perdition, because that feels equal in its own way. What he can't do is handle others' sacrifice. When it's his neck on the line, he can accept it in some way. When it's someone else's, he feels fear again._

 _He feels responsible for those close to him. For how he's affected their lives. How he's shaped them, for better or worse. And when something threatens them, he can't help but wonder if somehow it's his fault. Did he bring this into their lives? If he had been quicker, smarter, stronger, could he have prevented it? If he'd been a better brother to Damon, would he be a better man or vampire or person?_

 _Stefan can sacrifice himself, because he blames himself for every terrible thing that happens. In a strange way, it's easier to face his own death than it is to face a life without the ones he loves. Because he knows that if they die, he'll just add them onto his already long list of mistakes and victims and reasons he is not a good person._ )

* * *

"You don't look so good," Stefan says, his gaze bouncing from the road to Damon and back.

"Hate to break it to you, brother, but even _your_ hero hair is a little flat right now."

Stefan frowns at him. "We're all a little worse for wear, but you're _gray_. And sweating."

"Yeah, well, I hung on a little longer than the rest of you." He slumps, arms wrapped around himself. His guts haven't stopped churning since he woke up. Currently, he'd like almost nothing more than to pull over and upchuck. But, he needs to get to the boarding house, immediately. Because he knows his witch and she's got a one-way-ticket to Martyrtown, population: _her_.

Not this time.

He glares ahead at the road, even as his vision swims.

"Damon..." Stefan reaches for him, a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Suddenly, his eyes roll back into his head and there's nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

He's no longer in the car, but instead surrounded by a murky darkness, left to stand in it, surrounded by nothing and no one.

And then—

"Damon?"

His brow furrows and he turns, searching for the source of the voice. But the darkness is pervasive, no matter where he looks. "Grams?"

"It's Sheila to you, _Boy_." Her voice is quick and sharp, just like always. It's strangely comforting.

Still, Damon rolls his eyes. "What's a guy gotta do to get invited into the family?"

She snorts. "A lot more than you have."

"Point taken." He shrugs. "So, what am I here for?"

There's a clicking noise then, like heels on marble, and then something presses against his chest. A hand, he guesses. He can feel five distinct points, like fingernails, digging in through his shirt. "What you did earlier, offering yourself up for my grandbaby, that took guts."

"I have my moments."

"You're a reckless person, Damon. You react instead of planning. You see someone you care about in danger and you jump in with both feet. While I would usually condemn you for it, your quick thinking kept Bonnie alive a little longer. Long enough to eliminate Kai, at least."

His mouth twists up. "I couldn't care less about Kai."

"Oh, I've noticed..." Her nails bite into his chest a little harder. "The immediate danger has passed now, but the situation is still tenuous."

"Bonnie...?"

"Is dying."

He grinds his teeth. "We helped her. We helped take on the power, so what's the hold up?"

"We'd hoped that he would die sooner, but he took on more than we expected. You helped keep her alive, like conduits for her power, but make no mistake, it had to go through her still."

"So, she's, what, overdosing on magic?"

"By the time you arrived, she was already burned out. Now, she's still got all of that Bennett magic inside her. There's no magical release-valve. Either she gives up all her powers or dies."

"Bonnie's a _witch_ ," he snarls. "You can't take that from her."

"I'm not trying to. I want her alive, just as much, if not _more_ , than you..."

"She won't give up her magic, not willingly. It's her only tie to you, to her _family_."

"Which is why I'm proposing a different plan... Much as I don't like it, it might just save her life. And you, you're just impulsive enough you might go for it."

"Will it save her?"

"It'll either save her life or kill you both."

Of course it will. With a sigh, he asks, "There's no other option on the table? Something with a little less _death?_ "

"No."

He considers it for all of a second. "Deal."

Sheila's nails abruptly sink deep into his chest, through his skin, past his ribcage, until her hand is winding around Damon's heart.

He reaches out blindly, but all he finds is a blood-soaked wrist.

"Trust me," she says.

She squeezes his heart, and Damon _screams_.

* * *

 _( Damon doesn't feel like a flower. He's not sure he's ever treated others like they were flowers either. If he were a flower, he wilted long ago. Perhaps it was under his father's heavy hand, or maybe later, when he's shot dead trying to save a woman who didn't want him to save her at all._

 _He doesn't treat Elena like a flower so much as glass. An ornament to be placed on a shelf and admired from afar. Up close, he fears he'll mishandle it. Like his hands are too big while she is too delicate. So instead, he puts her on a pedestal and even when it teeters, even when she falls, he covers his eyes from seeing any chips or cracks in her construction._

 _Bonnie is a wild rose. A thorny one that pricks his finger and draws blood. She's not the type to be cut and placed in a vase, admired until she eventually fades and dies. Instead, she grows from deep roots, blooms where she wants, and cannot, should not, will not be tamed, plucked, or dethorned. He can admire her from afar, but it's much more fun to get too close and let her barbs cut his skin. It reminds him that he's alive, and so is her spirit._ )

* * *

Damon startles awake, sucking in desperate gulps of air, his eyes darting around. He finds Stefan, leaning in through the open passenger door, a hand on Damon's chest, staring down at him from wide, shocked, tear-filled eyes. Behind him is the boarding house and Damon blinks a few times before giving his head a shake. "Bonnie," he chokes out.

"Damon..." Stefan holds him down, a hand on either of his shoulders.

"I need to see her." He pushes up from his seat, but he's weaker than expected and Stefan has the upper-hand. Sighing, he looks up at his brother. "We can do this later, all right?"

"Can we?" Stefan shakes his head. "Why do I feel like you're about to do something seriously reckless?"

He offers a crooked grin. "Don't I always?"

Stefan's face falls. "I know your first instinct is to do whatever it takes, regardless of the consequences, but I need you to think about this..."

Damon's face goes uncharacteristically serious. "I have."

"Bonnie knew what she was doing when she went out there today. She knew that she might die. I'm not saying it's fair, but—"

"Your whole shtick is that we make choices, right? For better or worse, we all have to make hard choices at the end of the day, and we shouldn't get to influence that."

"That's different."

"Why?"

" _Because_..." Stefan's eye shine. "You're my _brother_."

"And I always will be." Damon's mouth hitches up faintly. "When I was in the prison world, Bonnie's the only reason I survived. Every day, I was ready to give up, but she never let me. When it was time to go home and Kai blew our plans apart, I told her to go, to leave me behind. She sent me back instead. Because that's what Bonnie does. She sacrifices herself for everybody else. And today, all of this, we owed her that. For all the shit we've pulled, every time we asked her to throw herself in front of the firing squad while we ran to safety." He shakes his head. "She killed Kai so the rest of us, the whole damn world, would survive. Now it's my turn."

"To what? To _die?_ "

"To save her." He stares up at him earnestly. "I've spent the last 170 years being selfish, Stefan. Don't deny it; we both know it's true. Me and my needs come first, whatever the cost."

"And dying's going to make up for that?"

"No. But, I'd rather die trying to save her than live knowing I didn't."

Stefan's mouth wobbles. "Damon—"

He climbs from the car, his legs a little steadier underneath him. "You should be happy, brother. This is personal growth."

Stefan lets out a laugh, but its wet and thick with emotion. Still, he reaches for him, pulling Damon's arm around his neck, and while Damon knows that Stefan could drag him as far away from the boarding house as possible and accept the consequences of it later, he doesn't. He helps Damon inside and up the stairs, leading him right to Bonnie.

Caroline is sitting on the bed, gripping one of Bonnie's hands in her own, while Matt is on the other side, kneeling on the floor, his face buried against Bonnie's wrist and his shoulders shaking.

"Jo says she..." Caroline's breath hitches. "She doesn't have much _time_." Her voice cracks and she looks up at them, awash in misery, her face red and blotchy, tears scoring down her cheeks.

Damon moves to the bed, taking a seat at Bonnie's hip, and he closes his eyes.

* * *

( _Grams' message of 'stay strong' is easier said than done. Some days, Bonnie wonders if she's not the weakest of any Bennett before her. Did they all suffer like this? Did they all end up tired and alone, beaten and forgotten? What kind of legacy was that? Is that what's in the small print when it comes to witches? That all their hard work and sacrifice will amount to nothing more than death?_

 _It's not fair._

 _She's given so much. Sacrificed so much of herself and her family. And for what?_

 _She's trapped in a prison of her grandmother's making. To keep captive a monster that Bonnie has, unwillingly, unleashed._

 _She could laugh if she didn't want so desperately to cry._ )

* * *

Bonnie can feel the pull of the light growing, but she refuses.

"Not yet," she says, staring ahead, even as she feels her heels sliding against the ground. Like a gravitational pull, it draws her back. Toward what? Oblivion? Certainly not another prison world. Maybe oblivion won't be too bad. Nothingness can't hurt, right? She's tired of hurting. She could do with a little rest. Or she thought she could. Now that it's facing her, she's not so sure. Death had seemed like a warm embrace when there was nothing tethering her to life, but now... Her friends, Damon, _life_... It whispers promises she wishes she could explore. Life has been nothing but terrible to her. The ups not high enough and the down too low.

But, it was good near the end. As farewells go, hers were short but meaningful.

"I hope you don't think you're doing this on your own."

She startles, her eyes opening abruptly, and she sees Damon in front of her, bathed in light. "What...?"

He grins at her, his eyes bright and his smile wide. He crosses the space between them, searching her face. "I don't do goodbyes, Bon. You know that."

"They make you uncomfortable."

"I don't like losing people. Especially not judgy little witches I planned on holding onto for a good long while..."

She snorts and shakes her head. "You can't fix this... I know this feeling. I'm burned out."

"But, you're here." His brows hiked. "Holding on for any particular reason?"

She shrugs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Do I need one?"

"I'd like to think you weren't ready to let go of me just yet."

"Typical Damon..." She rolls her eyes. "Thinks everything's about him."

"Isn't it?" He reaches out, his hands landing on her shoulders, and lets them drag down to her elbows. "You said you love me."

Her heart aches. "I do."

"So, prove it."

Her brow furrows. "How?"

"Fight, Bonnie." His expression turns serious then. "I know the gas tank is on low, which is why I'm here to lend a hand. But, I can't save you if you don't want to be saved."

"There's no way. I can't—"

"Maybe a lesser witch can't, but you're Bonnie Bennett... And if I've learned anything, it's not to underestimate you." He draws her arms open and takes her hands. "You've got too much power. You need to get rid of some of it, okay?" He nods. "You need to share the load."

Bonnie shakes her head. "If I share it with you, you'll die. It was different before, we were channeling it into Kai. You were a conduit then. If I share it with you now, it's got nowhere to go."

He squeezes her hands, nodding along. "Do you trust me?"

Bonnie looks down at their joined hands. "I don't want to hurt you."

"And I don't want to _lose_ you."

"I don't want to lose you _either_!" She stares up at him searchingly.

"Then trust me. If it doesn't work, we go together. If it does, we get to live to see another day." He draws her forward and raises their hands, palm to palm, their fingers folding in between each other. "If we're going down, there's nobody else I'd rather be with."

She stares up at him, her eyes shiny.

He looks past her shoulder, to the white light that grows brighter by the second. "Whatever happens... I love you."

Gripping his hands a little tighter, she nods. "I love you, too."

His mouth hitches up. "Let it loose..."

She doesn't look so sure, but she takes a deep breath.

A beam of swirling, glowing light bursts from her chest and reaches across the divide, sinking into his. His breath catches at first, surprised, but he nods down at her. "I can take it."

* * *

( _Damon has always thought he was a better vampire than he was a human, but then, he's never thought himself much good at being either. As a vampire, he's stronger. He has enough strength in him to take on just about anyone that comes for him. Strength and power were part of the draw. The idea that he can defend himself against those just like his father. There's a freedom in that. In knowing that he is the apex predator._

 _But, there are days when he mourns who he once was. The young boy his mother had loved so dearly. Who she'd wanted him to be and what she'd wanted him to have. A life beyond the one he'd grown up in, dressed in anger, resentment, alcohol, and, yes, even blood. Split lips and cracked cheeks and blooming bruises across his skin. The lash of his father's belt tearing open his back, leaving welts and streams of blood, patched up by his mother's shaking hands._

 _His father was more monster than he, that's what he tells himself. But, he wonders sometimes, if perhaps there is no escape from being his father's son. )_

* * *

Matt looks up as he hears chanting, his brow furrowed in confusion. It's not Jo or Liv, both of whom are sitting across the room, surprised.

Instead it's Damon. His eyes are a milky grey and his lips move, quick and easy, over a stream of Latin. A thin ribbon of silver light leaves Bonnie's chest, twisting and turning. It dances to an invisible song before swimming through the air, waving and weaving, until it connects with Damon's chest. Damon jerks as it makes contact and then leans back, his head tipped. His skin, once gray and sallow, a sheen of sweat clinging to him, clears to a healthy, flushed pink.

On the bed, Bonnie's cheek, once split and cracked, starts to heal, the skin knitting itself back together. Matt looks down to her thigh, where her jeans are burned and her skin was blistered and oozing seconds before, only to watch it all smooth away, new skin forming across the wound.

"What's happening?" Elena asks, standing in the doorway, her mouth ajar with shock.

"He's healing her," Matt mumbles, confused, but hopeful.

Jo shakes her head. "They're healing each other... She's sharing her magic with him. He— He's a witch."

"How?" Stefan asks, his brows hiked.

She frowns. "His heart. Is it beating?"

Stefan turns his attention to his brother.

Matt stares, waiting, and watches as shock crosses Stefan's face.

"It is. Kind of. It... It's slow, barely there, but..." He whispers, "He's _alive_."

"Something must've happened," Jo says. "Someone must've intervened when you were in contact with the Bennett witches. They must've done something, opened some kind of link."

Caroline looks to Stefan then, knowing. "Grams."

"But, what does it _mean?_ " Stefan demands. "If she shares her magic with him..."

"It's like a magical overdose," Liv says. "Bonnie has too much in her body. She needs to get rid of the excess magic somehow."

Jo nods. "Even if she renounced magic, it still burned through her. Her body can't take it. This way, Damon heals her and takes it into himself. The more he takes, the more he turns."

"Into a witch?"

"Yes, but he has to be strong enough to handle her power. His healing makes it possible, at least to some extent. But, he's giving so much of it to her, to bring her back from the brink..." She sighs and shakes her head. "They both need his healing. If he gives too much to her, then he's not insulated against the power he's taking on. If he doesn't give her enough, she can't heal. It's a waiting game."

Caroline makes a choked noise from her side of the bed and then turns, looking down at Bonnie. She brushes Bonnie's hair back from her face. "You can do this," she tells her, before raising her eyes and moving them to Damon. "Both of you can."

* * *

( _Bonnie almost kills Damon. More than once, if she's honest. He catches fire easily and there's a part of her, a very dark and angry part, that thinks it's fitting he be consumed by the elemental rage that chews up her insides. She blames him for so much of what's happened. Him and his kind. His maker and his brother. She tells herself that if he'd never come to down, her life wouldn't be like this._ She _wouldn't be like this._

 _But, Damon is only part of the problem. She would still be a witch. Still feel beholden to her friends. Her mother would've still left to keep Elena safe from Klaus. And she would've laid her life down a few thousand times to keep Elena or Jeremy or Caroline alive._

 _Still, Damon's smirking face makes her anger stir, makes the flames spike._

 _So, it's strange to her when, over time, the idea of killing him becomes less and less potent. That she turns to him for help more often than not. That she finds herself relieved he's around to help her fight off the latest enemy. And that, when the world's about to fall apart, it's his hand she'd holding._

 _Death and sacrifice aren't such strange bedfellows after all._ )

* * *

"It's too much," Bonnie says. There's a wind blowing around them, and the pull of the light at her back feels like claws, sinking into her skin, desperately clinging to her.

Damon shakes his head. "It's not."

"You're dessicating," she grits out.

"It'll pass."

" _Damon_ —" Her eyes blur with tears.

"I can do this." He lets out a ragged breath. "We both can."

She stares up at him, her face screwed up with uncertainty.

Releasing her hands, he cups her face and pulls her in until their foreheads meet. "One way or another, I go where you go," he promises. "If they want you up in heaven, they'll have to take me, too." He wraps an arm around her waist and holds her tight, chest to chest, and then lifts his head to yell at the light at her back. "You hear that? We're a two-for-one deal, 'cause I'm not letting go." He drops his gaze to meet Bonnie's. "How about you?"

She shakes her head and wraps her arms around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. "So, you're ready to die for me? That's what this is?"

He grins down at her. "It's the job."

Bonnie bites her lip. "Why?"

"I can't sing."

She laughs and pushes herself up, meeting his forehead with her own once more. "What if I said I wanted you to live with me instead?"

He meets her eyes and nods. "I think I can do that."

"Good. Because I'm not ready to die."

"I hear dying's overrated anyway."

* * *

( _The first time Bonnie dies, it's a ruse. A way to trick Klaus. She wonders later if that's an omen. If she set off a chain reaction by letting Death think it had her only to avoid the consequences of her actions. It feels like it follows her after, waiting for a moment of weakness so it can strike._

 _Is it her fault? she wonders. Did she tempt Death?_

 _Would she spend the rest of her life feeling its icy hand reaching for her?_

 _She can't remember what it felt like not to fear Death. Not to fear the day she'll give too much and lose the battle._

 _She can't remember what it is to be fearless._

 _But, she misses it._

 _She really does._ )

* * *

The light grows brighter, so much so that everyone in the room has to shield their eyes from it.

Everything goes completely white. Sound is blotted out. Seconds or minutes pass, leaving them all in a state of oblivion.

And then it all comes back into sharp focus. The light dims and dies, no longer tethering the two together.

Stefan blinks rapidly and looks to the bed. He takes a step closer before—

Bonnie sits up with a gasp, her eyes wide and a hand pressed hard to her chest. Her gaze moves to Damon immediately, who tips sideways to sink toward the bed. With a strangled noise, she reaches for him, drawing his head into her lap, brushing his hair back from his face with shaking hands.

Caroline smiles and lets out a shaky laugh, a hand reaching for her mouth to stifle a grateful sob, as she stares down at Bonnie, alive and awake. She looks from Bonnie to Stefan, who's staring down at the bed, his face stricken. Worry swamps her then. Pushing her hair back from her ears, Caroline listens for it. A heartbeat. There's so many people in the room, though, it's hard to differentiate them from each other. Shuffling across the bed, she reaches out, past Bonnie toward Damon's neck. She presses her fingers down, searching for a pulse, and raises her eyes to meet Bonnie's.

A beat passes, and then another, before she says, "He's alive."

A whoosh of breath leaves Stefan, letting him fall back against the wall, his shoulders slumped.

"Alive?" Bonnie looks from Damon to Caroline. "But..."

"He's human. Or a witch now, I guess."

Her brow furrows. "H-How?"

With a groan, Damon shifts, and blinks his eyes open slowly. "That'd be Grams' fault..."

"Grams?" Bonnie shakes her head. "I don't understand."

Damon reaches for her, a hand cupped around her elbow. "How're you feeling?" He pulls on her. "Sacrificial? Suicidal? Slightly turned on?"

Rolling her eyes, she lets out a huff of a laugh. "Confused. A little tired... _Curious_."

He hums, nodding a little, and then licks his dry lips and grimaces. "Personally, I'm a little parched. Cotton mouth's a bitch."

"Yeah, that's the hardest part about being human, Damon. Every once in a while, your mouth gets dry."

"Well, it's no picnic." He smirks up at her. "Where's my 'thanks for saving my witchy life' kiss?"

"Get in line." Caroline reaches over and shoves a hand against his face while wrapping her free arm around Bonnie's shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

Damon slaps her hand away. "Geez, you save someone's best friend and this the thanks you get? Ungrateful much?"

Bonnie laughs, resting her chin on Caroline's shoulder as she hugs her. "He did do a lot."

"I know." Caroline sighs. "Doesn't mean I have to _like_ him."

"Not to interrupt the reunion, but... I'd really like to check you both out," Jo says, stepping closer to the bed and looking between them. "Taking on so much magic is going to have an effect."

"Not to mention changing from a vampire into a witch," Stefan adds, crossing his arms over his chest as he steps forward and stares down at his brother, his mouth pursed. "Do you know what this means?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me..."

"Damon," he snaps. "You're _human_. That means you can die. It means you _will_ die."

"I've got at least sixty years left in the tank," he dismisses. "Besides, witches can prolong their lives. So, who knows how long we've got."

Pressing his hands to his face, Stefan sighs, and then shakes his head. Without another word, he leaves, pushing past a startled Elena.

Frowning, Caroline leans back from Bonnie and glances at Stefan. "I'll check on him." She turns back to Bonnie. "This isn't over though. You and me need to have a serious talk about this martyr complex and how much it seriously needs to stop."

Bonnie smiles at her faintly. "Okay."

Pushing off the bed, Caroline circles around it to leave.

And then Matt is standing up from the floor and tugging at Bonnie's elbow. "For the record, I think you gave me a heart attack."

Bonnie pulls him into a hug and squeezes as tight as she can. "I'm sorry."

He wraps his arms around her waist and drops his head to her shoulder. "Just don't do it again, all right?"

"I can promise I'll try my best not to. Does that work?"

He rubs a hand over her back. "It'll have to."

"Damon?"

Elena's voice causes a ripple in the room. Tension suddenly ballooning within four walls. Bonnie doesn't mean to stiffen, but she can feel her whole body go taut.

Damon lifts his head from Bonnie's lap and looks to the door, where Elena is standing, chewing on her lip.

"Can I talk to you?" she asks.

He hesitates, but then Bonnie squeezes his shoulder. "You should," she tells him.

He stares back at her a beat, unsure, but eventually nods. Pulling himself up from the bed, he stands on slightly wobbly legs and makes his way to the door. It's funny how just hours ago, the idea of him leaving her behind in a bed to chase after Elena had been the final nail in the coffin, whereas now, she trusts that whatever happens, whatever is said, his loyalty is to her.

* * *

( _Elena knows he said she shouldn't, that her memories can only make things more difficult. But, once she realizes something's missing, it's all she can think about. She likes Liam, she does, but she can't help wondering if whatever she had with Damon was better._

 _Alaric isn't eager to do it, but it's not up to him. Not him or Damon or anyone._

 _Elena tells herself that she's doing this for herself. That she just needs to know and she can deal with whatever the fallout is. Damon says he doesn't want her, and that's fine. She just needs to remember things like they were, to fill in the blanks as it were._

 _She's lying._

 _Damon's rejection bothers her. All she's heard from everyone is that he loved her with a toxic kind of desperation. She wants to know what that feels like. She wants to know if she likes it._

 _So, she tells Alaric that she won't argue about it anymore. She wants them back. And, grudgingly, he helps her._

 _As soon as her memories are returned, she realizes her mistake. Because it wasn't just Damon whose love was toxic and consuming. It was hers. And the idea of letting him go now is suffocating._ )

* * *

Damon slumps down onto a couch in the parlor. Coming down the stairs was a trip; his legs are shaky and his whole body feels like its been through the ringer. A good reminder that he is so very human now. He's not entirely sure how he feels about it.

"Not that I don't appreciate whatever's bugging you, but I'm a little wiped out, so if I fall asleep during this conversation, try not to take it personally..."

Elena starts pacing, tugging at her fingers. "Last night, when I got here and you weren't here... You were at Bonnie's, weren't you?"

He stares at her, her mouth twisted up in a grimace. "Yeah."

She winces, and lets out a slow breath. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you been together? How long have you...?"

"Loved her?"

She flinches and hugs her arms around herself as a shield. "Do you?"

"We got together a couple weeks after she came home... I started feeling something in the prison world, but I didn't... It took me a while to understand what it was. We were taking it slow, or I thought we were. She thought I was still in love with you, so, clearly we have to work on our communication."

She nods and lets out a tiny, bitter laugh. "So, you fell in love with my best friend... You were only over there for four months."

"I didn't do it to hurt you."

"But you _did_. You _hurt_ me." She turns to face him, her eyes accusing. "And today, you were willing to die for her?"

He's unflinching as he tells her, "If that's what it took, yes."

Her eyes widen, brows raised, and she lets out a choked, incredulous noise. "And becoming human? You were okay with that, too?"

"It was an easy trade to make."

"You loved being a vampire!" she exclaims. "Immortality, strength, power, _blood_. You were made for this, that's what you told me."

"I said that when there was no other option available. You think I didn't miss my humanity? That I didn't _hate_ what I was sometimes? The _intensity_ of what I felt, good _and_ bad. The people I killed. The guilt I had to carry..." He shakes his head. "I don't want to die, Elena. But, even without this, Bonnie had a clock ticking down, which means that eventually, I was gonna have to bury her."

"So, you did it for her?" She shakes her head.

"I did it because it was the right thing to do. Bonnie didn't deserve to die, so I made sure she wouldn't."

"At the expense of yourself!"

"I'm not the one upset about it." Sighing, he sits forward. "Look, I thought we made our peace with this last night..."

"That was before I found out you were sleeping with my best friend!" It's not a shriek, but it's close enough to it.

Damon frowns. "It'll take time, but you'll get over it. I care about you, but as a friend. And frankly, the fact that you're down here, grilling me about this, when your so-called best friend nearly _died_ , should make you rethink your priorities."

Her head rears back at the accusation and she scoffs. "I care about Bonnie. Just because I wasn't out there with you in that storm doesn't mean I didn't do whatever I could to help her."

"Maybe, but the reason she was out in that storm is on all of us, you included."

Her brow furrows. "Are you trying to say Bonnie martyring herself is _my_ fault?"

"Let's call it a group effort." He stands from the couch then, knees uncomfortably wobbly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a broody brother to console and a girlfriend to fuss over."

* * *

( _Bonnie is six years old when Caroline Forbes, with a halo of blonde curls around her head, flounces over to her, takes her hand, and pronounces, quite proudly, "You're my best friend." She adds right after, "And I'm yours."_

 _Bonnie is not sure what the difference is between a friend and a best friend, but given the emphasis Caroline always puts on it, she thinks it must mean that their friendship is very special. "What's that mean?" she still asks, because Grams always says if you don't know something, you have to ask until you do._

 _"It means..." Caroline trails off, her brow furrowed. "It means we're gonna be friends forever."_

 _Forever is a very long time, Bonnie thinks. Like, at least until third grade, which seems very far away. But, Caroline is very nice to her. She shares her snacks and paints Bonnie's nails and always holds her hand when they cross the street. Bonnie decides if she's going to have a friend forever, Caroline will be a very good friend to have._

 _"Okay," she tells her._

 _Caroline smiles so wide that Bonnie's cheeks hurt for her._

 _She has a good feeling about this best friends thing._ )

* * *

Bonnie's energy dips dramatically. After one too many yawns, everyone decides to leave her to nap. She hugs them goodbye before they go—Matt, Tyler, even Liv and Jo. And then she's alone in Damon's overlarge bed, curled up on her side, a pillow tucked tight under her head. At some point, Bonnie wakes up to Caroline sneaking into the room. She crawls across the bed to lay with her, face to face, and reaches out to take one of Bonnie's hands in her own.

"You scared me," Caroline whispers, rubbing her thumb over Bonnie's knuckles, a soothing back and forth motion. "Yesterday, when you left, you promised me we'd talk again. But, you weren't sure, were you? You left thinking you might not survive it. That you and Kai would battle it out and there was a good chance you wouldn't walk away..."

She nods.

Caroline stares at her, brow knit. " _Why?_ "

"He was a threat. If he could come back from Damon decapitating him, then he could come back from anything. I needed to make sure he wouldn't... The only way to do that meant putting myself at risk."

"What makes you think that's an even trade? Huh?" Caroline shakes her head. "It's _not_. A _thousand_ Kai's aren't worth one of you."

Bonnie opens her mouth to argue, but Caroline doesn't let her.

"No, listen to me... Ever since this happened, since you became a witch and I became a vampire and our life was just turned upside down with all this supernatural stuff, you've been at the forefront. You've been right there, pushing back against the worst of it. And don't get me wrong, because I appreciate it. You've saved me and the others more times than I can count. But, I don't want you to think that I would ever willingly choose myself over you. I've lost you before and it was one of the most painful things I've gone through. Not because you're a witch or because you save us, every time, but because you have been my best friend since I was a little girl. You've been my confidant and my cheerleader and the voice of reason when I do something too _Caroline_." She stares at her seriously. "I need you in my life, Bonnie, but I'd walk away from yours if it meant keeping you safe. Because you deserve a lot more than dying so the rest of us can live. That shouldn't be your legacy and I won't _let_ it be."

Bonnie let out a shaky breath. "I just... Sometimes I look around at everything that's happened and everyone I've lost and... I don't know where I belong. I don't know who I am or how I fit. The only thing I'm good for is the last minute save."

" _No_." Reaching out, Caroline thumbs a tear away from Bonnie's cheek. "You kept us safe long before you had powers. You stood up for us and defended us and protected us, even against ourselves. I mean, you fought back _my_ insecurity for me. But, that's not all you are. You're a friend and a daughter and a _sister_. And if I have to build a bunker and hide you in it every time the latest bad guy shows up to town, _I will_. Human, witch, _whatever_. I get to protect _you_ this time."

Bonnie smiles. "Thanks, Care."

"No thanks needed." She squeezes Bonnie's hand. "Just, promise me that you will do your best to survive the next sixty, eighty, a _hundred_ years..."

She nods. "Okay."

* * *

( _When Stefan turns, there is no other option for him but to ask the same of his brother. It's selfish, he knows. But, the idea of spending an eternity alone is too terrible to fathom. All of Stefan's life, he's admired Damon the most. Despite their differences, despite Damon's shattered heart, Stefan can't help but want his brother to be just like him._

 _At least then, no matter what happens, they will always have each other._

 _In the years to come, there will be days that he regrets this. Days that he wonders if it was his selfishness that unleashed Damon's bloodthirsty rage on the world. Days where he wonders if it was his selfishness that paved the way for the Ripper. Days where he wonders if it might have been kinder to himself and the world to let Damon die a depressed and angry human, unwilling to face an eternity without Katherine._

 _Other days, he will remember that Damon is his blood and no matter what he does or what consequences Stefan faces, nothing and no one can change that._ )

* * *

Damon finds Stefan in his room. In fact, he's at his desk, with a journal in front of him.

"When'd you start using those again? I distinctly remember you burning your old ones."

"I didn't have my memories then, and I was a little bitter..." He purses his lips. "For good reason."

Sighing, he steps deeper into the room and drags a chair over to sit in. He's not sure if it's being human or the physical exhaustion of his transformation, but his whole body feels about ten times heavier than usual and he's seriously ready for a nice, long nap. It'll have to wait, though because he can see Stefan's working up to a serious brood session.

"I know you have something to say, so... Let it out."

Stefan's writing seems to get a little rougher until, finally, he throws his pen down. "You're _human_."

"I am. Or as close to it as a witch can get." His eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Or am I a warlock? Is there a Wiki-page for that?"

"This isn't funny," he bites out. "You're vulnerable now, do you understand that? And in a town like Mystic Falls, you might as well have a target painted on your back."

Damon frowns. "I'm not exactly your _average_ human. My magic is still new, but I'm sure Bonnie can show me a few tricks." He grins. "Who knows, I could be tossing aneurysms your way any day now."

"Damon, you're going to _die_. Do you get that? Sixty years is like a flash in the pan. You had an _eternity_ before. Now, you're..." He tosses a hand up.

"I'm what?" He stares at his brother's profile. "It wasn't so long ago that you were desperate for the cure. To get rid of the Ripper and live a nice, long, normal life..."

Stefan's face falls. "The downside of which would be that you'd outlive me. But, I guess that's not a problem now. Since I'll outlive you."

"Is that what this is about...? You don't want to watch me grow old?"

"I don't want to _lose_ you." Stefan turns to stare at him searchingly. "You're my brother. Whatever's happened, whatever we've done or said, that doesn't change."

"No, it doesn't." Damon shakes his head. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Say... Say you'll turn. That this isn't permanent. Say you won't die on me."

"Stefan..." He trails off, his lips pressed flat.

" _Why?_ Why now? Why _human?_ "

He sighs, long and heavy. "I've had a long life. Made a lot of terrible choices. Hurt a lot of people. And now, maybe I get to do it differently. The only thing Bonnie's ever done with her powers is try to help people. Even people that didn't deserve it. Sure, she killed a few, but that was mostly to save us... Look, I don't know how good I'll be at this witch thing. I do know that as kickass a vampire as I made, it didn't always bring out the best in me. So, maybe I try it this way. And if I've only got sixty years, then, I spend it with my favorite witch and my brother and I do the best I can."

Stefan stares at him a long moment, his eyes bloodshot and shiny. "That's it? That's the big plan?"

Damon grins. "What can I say? I'm impulsive."

He lets out a laugh, but it's cracked. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Stefan shakes his head. "I can't make you do anything. I learned that a long time ago. If this is what's going to make you happy, then... I'll be here. For however long you've got."

Reaching out, Damon drops a hand on his brother's shoulder, and gives him a shake. "That's all I ask."

* * *

( _Caroline adores love stories. She drags Bonnie to the theater to watch every single one that comes out. She oohs and awws and cries for each couple that end up together. There are stars in her eyes when she leaves the theater and she looks to Bonnie, expecting the same. But, Bonnie is a pragmatist, or she likes to think of herself as one. And logically, she knows that true love's kiss is a farce. Sometimes love isn't enough. Sometime it doesn't work out. Sometimes one loves more or deeper than the other, and sometimes love turns to hate._

 _"So, you don't think there's one special person out there, made just for you?"_

 _"Not made for me, no." Bonnie shakes her head. "I think we grow into people and we grow out of them. Love takes a lot of work. And even if you really try at it, there's still no guarantee it'll be forever."_

 _Caroline frowns. "My way's more romantic."_

 _She laughs. "That doesn't make it real."_

 _"What if it was, though?"_

 _Bonnie frowns. "What do you mean?"_

 _"What if, in the whole world, there's one person out there that just_ fits _you? What if you find him or her or whatever and they're exactly what you want and need? What then?"_

 _"Then I guess I hope we find each other." She shrugs._

 _Caroline smiles. She reaches out and hooks an arm through Bonnie's and presses her shoulder against hers, forcing her to swerve sideways against the pressure, careening across the sidewalk. It makes them both laugh. "I think you're secretly a romantic, Bonnie Bennett. Underneath all your logic, I think you yearn for someone to love you."_

 _"Yearn? What is this, one of Grams' Harlequins?"_

 _Caroline snorts. "Seriously. And you know what?"_

 _"What?"_

 _"I think you'll find them. Whoever they are, I think you'll meet and fall crazy in love."_

 _"Oh yeah?"_

 _She nods. "Yup. Just you watch..."_ )

* * *

The next time Bonnie wakes up, it's morning again, and she's slept the whole night through. Caroline is long gone but a familiar arm around her waist tells her that Damon's taken her place.

Bonnie shifts, turning herself over in his arms. He falls back against the bed and she lays her head atop his chest. She's ready to fall right back asleep, warmed by his body heat, when the tell-tale sound of his heart hits her ears and she finds herself very, _very_ awake. Her eyes open and widen as her ears seeks out the steady sound. At some point, she'd grown used to not hearing it. More, she was used to him searching her heartbeat out with his hand or his ear, like it comforted him somehow. She's never understood it until now.

"It's weird, right?" His voice is thick with sleep and seems to rumble through his chest.

She hums. "I like it."

"I'd be offended if I didn't kind of like it myself." He rubs a hand down her back. "I forgot how much being human is a pain, though. I'm gonna have to eat more, probably take up running, and I'll definitely have to limit my drinking."

"Yeah, wow, that sounds terrible." She turns her head, resting her chin on him. "It's practically a death sentence."

He stares down at her, his expression soft. "Not exactly."

She smiles. "It's a big change, though. Vampire to human." She draws a deep breath and skims her fingers over his side. "I'd get it if you wanted to turn again."

"Nah. I'm kinda looking forward to this witch thing... I'm definitely going to need a few lessons. So far, I've learned the entire house is flammable and I'm a giant hazard."

She snorts. "Really?"

"Is there an on and off switch somewhere? Because I think I took a wall out in the parlor. I don't know if we have remodeling spells, but we definitely should..."

She smothers a laugh and shakes her head at him. "This isn't Harry Potter."

"You know, we might be the two most powerful witches alive. I mean, between us, I'm pretty sure we took on most of the Bennett family line. We should utilize that." His eyebrows hike. "We could probably create a whole new grimoire with whatever we come up with. Section One: how to unburn a wall."

"Exactly how much structural damage did you do?" she wonders.

He shrugs. "It's on the other side of the house, we should be fine."

Bonnie blinks at him. "Show me."

Damon sighs. "Worrywart..." Still, he stands from the bed and holds a hand out to her.

Bonnie crawls out from her side and takes it.

"What about conjuring food?" he wonders. "Is that a thing? And if not, can we make it one?"

She doesn't answer.

"I feel like I've read something about sex magic before. Not that we need it, but when have I ever said 'no' to new things?" As she walks ahead, he plants his hands on her shoulders and follows after her. "Also, the aneurysm spell. That's at the top of my 'need to know' list. I know exactly who to test it on..."

Bonnie rolls her eyes, not bothering to reply as they make their way into the parlor. He has taken out a wall, or at least burned it beyond recognition. The skeleton of the wall is still good, though. All of the beams are holding it up, at least. "What were you _doing?_ " she asks.

Damon shrugs. "Fiddling around."

"With your powers?"

"I was bored."

She looks up at him and shakes her head, strangely fond of this ridiculous man. "You're lucky I love you."

Damon grins and leans down to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Oh, yeah, _ew_ , that's going to take some getting used to..." Caroline mutters as she steps into the parlor, dressed in a familiar robe and holding a steaming mug of coffee. To Bonnie, she asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Really good." And she does. She feels... _strong_. Awake, alive, and capable of taking on anything that comes her way.

"Glad to hear it." Caroline takes a seat on the arm of the couch. "Not to dampen your mood or anything, but what are the chances you can teach him not to burn the place down in his sleep?"

"Slim."

Damon makes a vaguely offended noise. "Rude."

Bonnie laughs under her breath and stares up at him. "But, I can try."

He leans down to kiss the tip of her nose. "I vote we get started on the magical training _immediately_. Especially the parts I already mentioned. Specifically, the one that involves my bed."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "We're not learning sex magic."

"So, you're saying it _exists?_ " He wiggles his eyebrows. "Oh, we are _definitely_ learning sex magic." He pushes at her hips, but instead of leading her to the stairs, he brings her into the kitchen. "Right after pancakes."

Bonnie bites her lip as she smiles, watching him move around the kitchen, whistling to himself as he starts getting everything ready. He looks young and warm and full of life. And it's in that moment that she notices a few flecks of silver through his hair, a reminder of just how much he put into pulling her back from the edge. Her heart thumps and shifts in her chest, cracking open to fill her with the overwhelming truth that she matters. Not just to him or Caroline or all her friends. But, to her father, to Grams, and, most importantly, to herself. In the end, it was her who decided whether she lived or died, tried, or gave up. She chose life. She chose to fight. And, she chose him.

He looks up at her as he places a container of blueberries and a canister of whipped cream down on the counter. His grin is wide and happy and full of unconditional love. And despite how complicated and turbulent these last two days have been, Bonnie believes it. She trusts that when he says he loves her, that he'll fight for her, that he wants to go forward in life right by her side, he means it.

She hopes her smile tells him the same story.

* * *

( _In the early days of Tyler's transformation, he comes to Bonnie hoping for answers._

 _"There's no way you can, I don't know, cure me? Make it go away somehow?"_

 _"I've looked, but... I don't think that's how it works."_

 _"So, I'm just doomed to this. No matter what I do, I'll always be a werewolf." He lets out a strangled laugh, his head falling back. "Why? Why me?"_

 _She'll ask herself that question a lot, not only about herself, but about her friends. Why was she a witch? Why was Caroline a vampire? Why, of all of them, was Matt the only one that managed to stay human?_

 _In the end, she has no answers._

 _"If I could, Tyler... I'd help you."_

 _He sighs, his mouth twisted up in a bitter smile. "Yeah, I know."_

 _He leaves, and Bonnie can't help but feel like she's failed him somehow. She's not sure when everyone's supernatural ailments became her fault or her priority, but they have. And frankly, she has no idea what that means or what she's doing._ )

* * *

Three weeks after Bonnie returns from the brink, she gets a call from Tyler. He, Liv, and Luke left town shortly after the Kai showdown, taking to the road to find somewhere less accident prone to live. She's expecting an update on where they've settled when he tells her instead that his werewolf gene has activated.

"I think it happened during the power exchange," he says. "I guess I technically had a hand in killing Kai, so..."

Her heart aches. "Tyler, I'm so sorry. I know you didn't want to go through that."

"It's okay." He sounds sincere when he says it, too. "It didn't hurt, Bonnie."

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I turned on the full moon and there was no pain. I don't know why or how, but it's like I'm free. I can remember everything I did. I'm completely aware when I turn. I think, with practice, I might even be able to turn at will." He lets out a heavy sigh, filled with relief. "My family has property out in California. We're going to settle down there for a while."

Bonnie smiles to herself and nods. "That sounds great."

"You were right. I didn't want to turn. But, it was hard, feeling like a part of myself was locked up. This feels better. It feels more like me."

"Minus the pain."

"That helps."

"Good. I'm so happy for you."

"Me, too. Hey, listen, if you ever need anything, you ever need my help, call me. And I mean that. I owe you."

"You don't—"

"Bon," he interrupts. "We've known each other since kindergarten. I beat up Jacob Fuller for you when we were seven and I'd do it again. Even if he's some jacked up vampire or werewolf or whatever the hell else is out there."

She laughs. "Okay. Well, thank you."

"Take care of yourself, all right?"

"I will. You, too," she tells him.

After she hangs up, she feels good. These last few weeks have been great. She's back at her house and, having talked to her dad and laid things to rest, his ghost doesn't feel like it haunts the halls anymore. She feels free in more ways than one. Caroline calls daily, sometimes hourly, to check up on her, which is both completely over the top and strangely endearing. She and Matt have been spending more time together. Sometimes they just hop in his truck and drive around, talking about everything and nothing. Stefan and her having a standing Wednesday pool date at The Grill. He insists they spend more time together outside of whatever supernatural attack is coming for them and she likes it. Their friendship has been long and coming, always hinging on their mutual love for Elena or Caroline but now finding a common ground outside of that. And Damon is...

Well, he's Damon, which means teaching him magic is both fun, annoying, and somewhat exhausting. He's eager, she'll give him that. But, he's got a lot of unrestrained power in him, and he's almost too chaotic of a personality to harness it. He'll get there, though. She knows he will. And, she kind of likes it, being able to share this thing with him. For so long, she's felt like she was the only one of her kind, the only one who knew what it felt like to wield magic. But, she can see the excitement in his face when he gets something right, when he makes feathers float or lights a candle or hits Enzo with an aneurysm spell just for a laugh.

She doesn't feel so alone now. In fact, she feels the opposite. Almost smothered by her friends' love and care.

All but one, at least.

A knock sounds at her door then and Bonnie leaves her living room to wander to the front door. She knows who it is, she can see her familiar figure through the frosted glass. A part of her doesn't want to answer. She loves Elena, but she's not sure she's ready for this fight. Another part of her tells her not to be a coward.

Taking a deep breath, she steps forward and opens the door.

* * *

( _Sometimes, Bonnie thinks she hates Elena as much as she loves her. It starts in the prison world, when she's lost and alone and the pervasive silence eats at her. She doesn't want to. She wants to go back to the days where Elena was her sister, her confidant, her closest ally. But, sometimes, those days feel like they were a lifetime ago. Their friendship has been on the rocks since Grams' death. She's tried to forgive her, but some part of her heart just can't._

 _She knows that Damon and Stefan are a part of that misery. But, they owed her no loyalty. She was nothing to them. To Elena, she was supposed to be her best friend. They were supposed to protect each other. Bonnie's done her part. She's laid down her life time and again for Bonnie. But now, she wonders if Elena could or would do the same for her._

 _She loves Elena, she does. But, she also hates who she's become and who she's helped shape Bonnie into._

 _And for that, she hates herself, too. )_

* * *

Elena half-smiles as the door opens. "Hey," she says quietly. "Can we talk?"

Bonnie stares at her a beat before she nods. "Yeah. Sure." She pulls the door open wider and steps back, letting her inside.

They move to the living room, where Bonnie stands, her arms crossed, and her back against the fireplace mantle.

Elena takes a seat on the sofa, her hands rubbing over her knees anxiously. "I've thought a lot about what I wanted to say. I wrote it down a few times, too. The first few drafts turned into rants, but I think I needed to get some stuff of my chest." She takes a deep breath and says, "At first, when I realized you and Damon were together, I was angry. I felt like you betrayed me. Like _he_ betrayed me. And then he said something, about how I was focusing on the wrong thing. That instead of being happy that you were alive and okay, all I could think about was him and me... And he was right. I— I've been so _selfish_ , Bonnie. I don't know when it started, but I've put so many things and people before you and I'm so _sorry_. For everything I've done and said and asked you to do. But, more than anything, I'm sorry that you almost died, _again_ , and you would've gone thinking that it was something I'd be okay with."

Elena shakes her head, her hair bouncing against her shoulders. "At some point, I forgot that you were my best friend and that every time you protected me, I should've been protecting you, too. You were there for me through my parents deaths. You saved Jeremy's life, at least twice. You died for me, for _us_ , and I let it happen. I basically _asked_ you to." She hugs her arms around her waist and closes her eyes. "I can't apologize for that enough and I don't expect you to forgive me. I really don't. You probably shouldn't."

Bonnie's arms slowly untied, her hands falling to her sides. She wasn't expecting this. Angry accusations, sure. Tearful confessions that she still loved Damon, maybe. But, not an apology. Despite everyone else coming forward to apologize and ask for more time with her, to prove that she mattered and they wanted a better, stronger relationship with her, Elena's absence felt like proof enough that she wasn't on the same page. Maybe she was wrong.

Standing from the couch, Elena circles the table to stand in front of Bonnie. "I promised myself that I'd be honest, so... When I found out that you were taking on Kai, I was relieved. He was a threat and he scared me. I thought, if anyone can beat him, it was you. In the same vein, I knew that fighting him might kill you, and it... It didn't scare me like it used to. I started expecting it. Not just that you would die, but that you'd bring yourself back. And _that_ is the worst part. Because I left it up to you to save yourself and I didn't believe you'd ever really be gone. That of course you'd come back, because I _needed_ you. But your life, Bonnie, it's _yours_. It shouldn't hinge on me or what I want or what I need. You are so much more than that, and I'm sorry that I made you think different. I'm sorry _I_ thought different."

She reaches for Bonnie, her hands folding around loose fists. "You were my best friend once and I was yours. I know we're both different people now. And maybe you don't want to be my friend after everything we've been through. But I'd like a chance to show you that I can be better than what I was. That I can be the friend you deserve." She shakes her head. "You don't have to say anything now. Just... think about it. _Please_. And if you decide that no, you don't want that, it'll hurt, but... I'll understand."

Her eyes are bright with tears, but she blinks them back, and then she pulls Bonnie forward into a tight, warm hug. She rubs her back and says, "I'm happy you're okay. You have your whole life ahead of you and I want it to be the _best_ life you could possibly have."

With that, Elena lets go. She takes one last tearful look back at Bonnie, and then she leaves.

A stunned Bonnie lets out a shaky breath, and feels a small part of her broken heart mend itself again. She's not sure she'll take Elena up on the offer, but she feels better having heard it at all.

* * *

( _"We haven't talked about it..."_

 _Caroline is sitting on Bonnie's bed, flipping through a magazine absently. She's made it a requirement that she and Bonnie spend time together every day. Bonnie knows it just her way of trying to make up for everything that led to her showdown with Kai._

 _"About what?"_

 _"Uh, maybe that you're shacked up with Damon?" Tossing the magazine aside, she looks up at Bonnie, her brows hiked. "I think he spent one night at the boarding house this week. And he dropped in for a change of clothes once or twice, but that's about it."_

 _Bonnie shrugs and continues going through her closet. A lot of her old clothes feel exactly that,_ old _. Caroline agreed, so they're getting rid of whatever she doesn't want before they replenish it with a whole new wardrobe._

 _"He's just as clingy as you are," Bonnie says, tossing a shirt aside._

 _"Hey!" Caroline cries, but she's more amused than annoyed. "Anyway, I'm not complaining. I didn't really notice, but he's been doing this for a while. Or, you both have, I guess. Because you were sneaking around having some steamy affair with Damon and you didn't even_ tell _me!"_

 _"You don't like him," Bonnie reminds her._

 _"Well,_ duh _." Caroline rolls her eyes. "But, you should at least tell me when you're seeing someone."_

 _"You know now."_

 _Groaning dramatically, Caroline throws herself down on Bonnie's bed. "Look, I don't want details._ Ever _. But, I do want you to be happy. And if in some bizarre way that I will never understand, Damon does that for you then... okay."_

 _Bonnie turns from her closet and looks at Caroline, whose earnest face stares back at her. "He does. And I am. Happy, I mean."_

 _Caroline smiles then. "Good." She rolls off the bed. "Now, let's get our shopping on!"_ )

* * *

"You're not focusing."

"I'm _completely_ focused," Damon argues, his arms around her waist and his lips traveling from her shoulder up to behind her ear. "I'm the picture of focused."

"Yeah, just not on what you _should_ be." Still, she leans back against him and lifts her head to see him better. "Come on. If you don't want to meditate, then why don't you show me what you've learned? You've read the grimoire back to front at this point."

With a long-suffering, and completely overexaggerated, sigh, he pulls away from her. "Okay. For the record though, I think we should find a real-world _Crucio_ -esque spell to throw at our enemies."

Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head. "We're not making one of those. And I know you're set on making our own grimoire, but why do all your spell ideas involve fatally injuring someone?"

He shrugs. "Maybe I miss the bloodshed a little."

"So, you want to shed as much as possible?"

"Just the blood of our enemies." He plucks a stick up from the ground and wields it like a sword, poking her in the backside and grinning when she swats the stick away. "All right, I think I've got Leviosa spell down."

"It's a levitating spell, and the fact that you relate everything to Harry Potter is never _not_ annoying."

Damon's mood doesn't dip in the least, however. Instead, he draws a deep breath, raises his hands, and without speaking so much as a word, begins levitating a fallen tree in the near distance. It's mossy and, quite frankly, _huge_. As it lifts, trees on either side of it are forced to bend out of the way. Damon motions his fingers in a 'come here' fashion and the huge tree comes flying in their direction. It's moving a little too fast, enough that they have to duck out of the way.

"Whoops..." His brows hike and he has to turn around to face it once more. "Guess that worked a little better than expected."

"You know, when I was starting out, making feathers float was a highlight. But, two months in and you're out here levitating _trees_."

He shrugs, moving his hands side to side in a measuring motion. It makes the tree do the same, the wood whining and groaning. "You were a baby witch then. I've got a super flood of magic to work with. Besides, we both know you can do this and more..." He smirks back at her. "I know you rearranged the bedroom yesterday with your magic."

Bonnie turns her eyes up thoughtfully. She'd stacked all the furniture in the room and then systematically placed it where she wanted it, and she didn't even break a sweat, let alone get a nosebleed. "We shouldn't play with it like this. It should be used for something more important."

"Like what?" He cocks his head curiously. "No, wait, let me guess... World domination."

"I was thinking more like world _saving_. There are a lot of people out there that have probably gone through the same things we have. Their towns being taken over by supernatural killers. We could _help_ them."

He frowns. "You mean do the same things we did here that put you on ice a few too many times?"

"No. We'd be smarter about it. _Safer_. Half the reason I did so much was because people I loved were in danger."

"You've got a heart of gold, Bon-Bon. You don't think you'll get attached to whatever riff-raff we try saving elsewhere?"

"Maybe I will." She shrugs. "But, I'm not going to risk my life like I have before. All I know is that we have more power between us than probably anyone on earth. And I think we should use it do something good."

He nods. "Well, I told you I'd do whatever you wanted if we got out of this whole thing alive. You wanna play the superhero version of Bonnie and Clyde, I'm game."

She smiles. "You just like being a hero."

"It comes with a few perks."

"Oh?" She lifts an eyebrow.

"A super hot, super powerful girlfriend." He abandons the tree in favor of twisting on spot to flirt with her. However the tree lands hard enough that the ground beneath them shakes. A branch snaps off and peels away. On the way down, it scrapes down Damon's arm, shearing through the sleeve of his shirt and leaving a long, red stripe along his skin.

Bonnie's cries out.

Wincing, Damon rolls his shoulder back, and turns to her. "Before you start, yes, that was poorly thought..." He trails off when he realizes blood is soaking through the arm of her shirt. "Bon?" He reaches for her, his hand cupped around her elbow. Carefully, he peels her shirt off her shoulder to get a look at her arm, tearing the fabric open when it doesn't show him enough. There's a jagged cut that reaches from the top of her shoulder right down to an inch above her elbow.

"Damon..." She reaches for him, her hand on his forearm. "It's the same."

"What?" His brow is furrowed as he yanks her sleeve open entirely, carefully probing her cut with his thumbs. It doesn't look like it needs stitches, but it does look like it hurts.

" _Look_." She tugs on his arm and nods her chin toward his own wound. "It's the same."

Damon shrugs his plaid button up off of one shoulder and brings his arm closer to hers. He blinks, surprised, as his wound begins to heal. The skin slowly reforming, mending itself, leaving behind a torn shirt and patches of drying blood as the only proof. More, the same thing happens to Bonnie's arm. "Huh."

Bonnie looks up at him. "What do you think it means?"

He shrugs. "No idea." He cups her elbow and bends to press a kiss to her shoulder. "But, we'll figure it out." Then, drawing her by the hand, he starts walking through the woods once more.

"That's it? We'll just figure it out?" She falls into step, staring up at him incredulously.

"All I know is that we're both fine. Better than fine." He wraps his arm around her and draws her into his side. "Hey, maybe our superpowers gave us super healing. That's gonna help when we drive off into the sunset to start saving people. Speaking of, when did you wanna get on that?"

"Not until I'm sure you have a better hang on your magic." She leans against him, swinging her arm around his waist. "Which doesn't include waving trees around like they're toothpicks."

"Impressive though, right?" He wiggles his eyebrows down at her.

She bites her lip to hide a smile. "Tiny bit."

He grins down at her. "That reminds me... I have something for you."

"If it's a _wand_ , I swear..."

He laughs under his breath, but pulls a box out of his pocket. "Not quite." He thumbs the top open and shows it to her. Inside, there's an antique, oval necklace with a rose carved out of metal.

"It's beautiful," she says, reaching out to let a finger run around the edges. "What's it for?"

"It's a reminder." He plucks the necklace up from the box and holds it out to her. Bonnie takes it from him and slips the chain over her head, letting the pendant fall against her chest.

She looks down at it as she wonders, "A reminder of what?"

"To be gentle."

Bonnie smiles softly and then looks up at him. She hooks her fingers through the loops of his jeans and pulls him forward until they're pressed flat to each other. "You're a sap, Damon Salvatore."

He leans down, dropping his forehead to hers. "You love it."

Humming, she nods, and wraps a hand around the nape of his neck. "I do."

Pressing a lingering kiss to her lips— once, twice, three times— he draws away, takes her hand, and pulls her along the dirt path, giving her a little twirl as he leads them back toward where his car is waiting. "Come on. You can teach me all your witchy ways back home. I'm sure I can find some feathers somewhere. And I know of a few good uses for them outside of making them _float_."

Bonnie laughs, but she tugs on his hand so he'll look back at her. "Hey..."

His brows arch curiously.

Serious and sincere, she says, "I'll be gentle with you, too."

Damon nods. "I know." He pulls her forward. "Now who's the sap?"

She grins. "Still you."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _i hope the fact that his chapter is phenomenally huge makes up for the long wait. i considered splitting it into two, but there's just no good place to do that and i already made you all wait long enough._

 _also, i've written an epilogue. like, it's done, so there's no four month wait before you get to read it. i wanted to tie up a few loose ends and give a look into their future. specifically, 25 years later. :)_

 _thanks so much for reading; please, try to leave a review!  
_ **\- Lee | Fina**


	5. epilogue: part one

**chapter rating** : pg-13/teen  
 **word count** : 9,987

* * *

 **Epilogue**.

 **PART ONE**

 _-25 YEARS LATER-_

Matt is just walking into the police station, rolling an arm forward and back to release some of the pressure on an old bullet wound, when Jasmine at the front desk waves him over. There's a young woman standing in front of her, swamped in an oversized green jacket. She's short, barely reaching his shoulder, and she's got her chin up defiantly. She glances back at him, suspicion clouding her eyes.

"Sheriff," Jas greets. "You're just in time."

"Hey Jas, you need some help?" he asks as he approaches.

Jasmine has been working at the station for the last ten years. She handles most of the frantic calls that come in and then dispatches whoever's needed to whatever incident is happening around town. She's also one of only three of his Deputies that knows about the supernatural end of things and will purposely call Matt or the other two deputies in when she thinks the issue is _uncommon_.

It's already been a long day, so Matt is eager to get home. His daughter, Victoria, had her first junior cheerleading practice today and she's been texting him all afternoon about how its going. He's excited to get home and have her tell him everything again in vivid detail. Tori's a good kid with a heart of gold. She's twelve now and she only sees the best in people, just like her mother, Daniela. When Tori was nine years old, she met her first vampire. She'd known about them before that, even wore a bracelet with vervain in it, but it was the first time she was face to face with one. Matt put it down with a stake gun and after that, she wanted to learn. 'I need to defend myself, daddy.' So, Matt taught her. He never brought her into the field when he needed to take on the latest threat to the town, but in the back of his mind, he wondered if one day, she'd be just like him. Toting around weapons made specifically to take out vampires, keeping the town's supernatural secret as she kept its people safe from an unseen threat.

This girl kind of reminds him of Tori. She's a little older, he'd guess. Sixteen or seventeen. And she's a physical contrast, too. Where his daughter is pale-skinned with blue eyes and sandy hair, this girl has brown skin, black hair, and dark eyes. It's the stubbornness, really. Tori's never seen a problem she wasn't willing to tackle without all the bull-headed stubbornness she inherited from her father.

"This young lady is Brenna. She declines to give her last name." Jas rolls her eyes over Brenna's shoulder. "She's looking for someone in particular and I thought you might want to talk to her personally."

"I tried going door-to-door but not a whole lot of people felt like talking," Brenna says. "I don't know if it's a black thing or a stranger thing."

Matt stares at her a beat. "Little of both, probably."

Brenna looks surprised at his candid answer.

"I've lived here my whole life. I'm not unaware of the racism problem. I deal with it where I can." He crosses his arms over his chest and nods his chin toward her. "Who were you looking for?"

"Her name is Bonnie… Bonnie Bennett."

Matt goes still. His gaze moves slowly toward Jas, who nods at him knowingly and then wheels her chair back from the desk, shifting to the right, where a crossbow sits, armed with a stake tipped with vervain. He looks back at Brenna casually. "And you think this Bonnie lives here in Mystic Falls?"

Brenna shrugs. "I don't know if she does. I just know that she used to. A long time ago. I was hoping she might be around or someone might have a forwarding address."

He hums. "Can I ask why you're looking for her?"

She snorts. " _No_."

His mouth hitches up at the corner, faintly. "So, you want me, the local sheriff, to tell you, a complete stranger, where someone lives, but you don't want me to ask questions?"

Her feet shift awkwardly. "I'm not dangerous," she defends. "I just need to speak to her."

He nods, staring at her a moment. "Well, I wish I could help you. But, there haven't been any Bennetts around here for over twenty years."

Her shoulders slump and the defiance bleeds out of her. "Do you know where she went or…?"

Shaking his head, he rests an elbow on the desk, his hand tucked inside his jacket, loosely gripping his gun, just in case. Whatever she is, it's not screaming 'vampire' at him, but he can never be too careful. "Sorry. It's been a long time. People move on, start new lives. Haven't seen her since we were 20, 21 years old."

"All right. Thanks, I guess." She turns on her heel to walk to the door.

Matt watches her go. "Hey, Brenna No-Last-Name?"

She pauses and looks back at him, lips pursed.

"How old are you?" he wonders. "You look a little young to be traveling on your own."

She offers a bitter smile and pulls her hood up over her head. "Old enough," she tells him, before shouldering through the door, out into the world.

Matt shakes his head and then looks back at Jas. "She just showed up?"

"Yeah. Walked right up to me and said she needed to find someone and was hoping I could help. I was about to radio you when you got here." Jas sits back on her chair, frowning. "You think she was a vamp?"

He shakes his head. "Didn't get that vibe."

"Could be a witch. Or a siphon, a werewolf, a hybrid…" She sighs. "The list goes on, right?"

"Could be," he agrees. And then he's pulling his phone from a pocket on his belt. "If she comes back in, let me know. Immediately." Shaking his head, he starts for his office. "I don't like strangers. You never know where they're coming from or what they're bringing with them."

"Will do."

Making his way into his office, he shuts the door and pulls up his contacts, scrolling down to 'B.' The phone rings four times before she picks up.

"Matt, hey! How did Tori's cheerleading practice go? She sent me pictures in her new uniform. She looks great!"

He half-smiles. "From what I hear, it went well. I'm not home yet. When I know more, I'll let you know. But, uh, that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh?" She pauses. "I know that tone. Did something happen? Do you need me to come back to town? It might take me a couple days to get things settled, but—"

"No, no, it's not that. At least I don't think so. There, uh, there was as girl. Teenager, really. She was looking for you. Didn't say much, just that her name was Brenna and she was hoping you were still in town. When I pressed, she clammed up."

"You think she's dangerous?"

"Honestly, I don't know…" He rubs a tired hand over his forehead. "I've been doing this more than half my life. They still fool me sometimes."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." She sighs. "What do you want to do?"

"I'll keep an eye on it. If she sticks around, I'll know. She makes trouble, I'll stop it. And if I can't, I'll call."

"Good. Okay, keep me updated."

"Always do." He smiles to himself. "How're things with you?"

"Hectic. The shop is doing well. Almost too well. Sometimes I wish we could just ship everything out. But, then we can't screen for potential threats."

"Yeah. Hey, I forgot to thank you. That batch of vervain you sent us has been a huge help."

"Any time," she says, brightly.

There's a knock at the door to his office then and it swings open to show his brightly smiling daughter. Her cheeks are flushed with excitement, her ponytail is a little lopsided, and she's still wearing her cheerleading outfit.

"She couldn't wait," Daniela says, stepping up behind her, a hand on their daughter's shoulder. Fifteen years of marriage and she's still just as beautiful as the day he met her. "You almost done your shift, Sheriff? I was thinking we could get dinner at The Grill."

"Yeah." He nods at her and then turns back to the phone. "The family is here, Bon. I gotta go."

"Tell them I say 'hi.' And be safe out there. All of you."

"We will." He pauses. "Hey, if she ends up finding you out there and it turns into something, you need any help…"

"I'll call you. Promise."

He grins. "Good."

"Tell Tori Aunty B wants to hear all about practice when she gets a chance."

"I will. Love you, Bon."

"Love you, too, Matt."

Hanging up, he puts his phone away and turns back to his family. "Who's this amazing cheerleader that's got my kid's face, huh?"

Victoria grins widely. "It was _amazing!_ " She rushes toward him, bouncing on the tips of her toes, her hair swinging behind her. Daniela follows her in, taking a seat behind Matt on his desk, resting her chin on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist.

Twenty-five years ago, Matt wasn't sure where his life was headed. He wasn't sure how long he could survive in a town constantly overcome with supernatural enemies. But, he'd managed. He built up a whole life for himself, helping people and pushing back the fray. He met an amazing woman, fell in love, and had a daughter he couldn't love more if he tried. His life was good. Hectic, stressful, and not always safe. But, it was his. He talked to Bonnie frequently, and saw her on holidays and birthdays. But, he wasn't lying to Brenna. Bonnie moved away a few years after the Kai incident. Everybody did. He was the only one from the original group that stayed in Mystic Falls. He missed them sometimes, but it was okay. They were still his friends, still his family, and they saw each other when they could. When any of them needed help, they were just a phone call away, and they always came through for each other. He couldn't really ask for more.

.

.

.

Brenna breaks into the library. In the basement is a collection of town records for everyone who has or does live in Mystic Falls. She skips most of it and makes her way to the dusty shelving unit filled with yearbooks. If she has to guesstimate, she'd say Sheriff Donovan is around 45-ish. He looks good for his age. There's some silver in his blond hair and a few wrinkles fanning out around his eyes, but she thinks they're probably more from laughter than stress. He's handsome, she'll give him that. But, also a liar. There was just something in his body language when she brought up Bonnie that said he knew more than he was saying. She's not an idiot, though. She knows he was suspicious of her, too. Asking about people tends to make people curious. Police officers more than most.

The information gathered for Bonnie Bennett ends in 2016. There's no forwarding address. As far as Mystic Falls is concerned, after Bonnie left, there's nothing to be said about her. With that dead end in mind, Brenna turns her attention elsewhere. She digs through the yearbooks, wiping away collected dust with her palms. She finds the one marked 2009-2010 and pulls it out, thumbing through the pages. She finds Bonnie Bennet marked under the graduating class. She's beautiful. A few people over is Matt Donovan. Clearly, they'd known each other. A small town like this, they had to have. She takes a guess and thumbs through to the group pictures, where she finds one with four people— _Bonnie Bennett, Matt Donovan, Caroline Forbes and Elena Gilbert_. She already knows where Donovan is, which means her next target is either Forbes or Gilbert. Maybe they'll know where Bonnie is.

Town records for Elena Gilbert are a little different. After finishing high school, she was accepted into the pre-med program at Whitmore, which she completed in 2014. She applied for med school in Pittsburgh and was accepted.

In terms of Caroline Forbes, she was accepted into Whitmore College post-high school. She studied business, journalism, and drama. In 2013, her mother, former Sheriff, Elizabeth Forbes, passed away due to cancer. Caroline finished school a year later, and stayed in Mystic Falls until 2018. There's no record past that.

Figuring Elena might be an easier person to find, Brenna decides to take the yearbook with her for identifying purposes and then leaves the dusty records room the same way she came.

Hood drawn over her head, she shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket and starts down the road. After a stop at a local coffee shop, where she borrows their WiFi to google around a bit, she finds an article about Elena Gilbert, a cardiothoracic surgeon at Mount Sinai Hospital. The article is only four years old. Checking out the hospital website, she searches the staff directory under Cardiology and finds a familiar, if strangely young-looking, face. _Elena Gilbert_. Packing her laptop away after that, Brenna leaves the coffee shop and heads for the highway to hitch a ride. Destination: New York.

.

.

.

Sitting at the front counter of the shop, Damon put his phone on speaker while he picked through a stack of orders that were due for delivery this week. "Guessing you talked to Donovan..."

"Yeah, he was a little worried. Any ideas who this 'Brenna' might be?" Tyler wonders.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Damon sighs. "I'd say it's easier that they're only focused on Bonnie, means it's not someone from _my_ past with some kind of grudge. But, she's racked up a few of her own enemies over the years, and they're not exactly small time."

"You think this one's a threat?"

"We don't tend to attract the nice ones." He frowns. "He give you any details?"

"Just that she was young, kind of nervous, and stubborn."

"Stubborn?"

"He said she had an attitude, reminded him a little of Tori."

"Huh." Damon stares out into the store for a moment.

"Look, if this goes somewhere, if she's going to show up and become a problem, keep us in the loop."

Damon's mouth screws up, amused. "Sure, if she shows up on our doorstep, my first call will be to you, that way you can identify us when you're 12 hours too late."

"Half that, probably. Depending on where we'd have to land and drive in from."

"Oh, well, that changes everything." Damon rolls his eyes. "We can _totally_ hold out for six or seven hours."

"Help is help." Tyler sounds exasperated. "Just send out an SOS if she shows up. Can't be too careful."

"I'll send up a smoke signal, too."

"I'm hanging up now."

Damon grins. "I'll let Bonnie know you're worried."

"Do that. And stay safe."

"Yeah, yeah. You, too."

.

.

.

Elena is exhausted. She's just finished a surgery—54-year-old patient, Graham Jeffords, history of heart problems, a wife, three kids, and a grandson on the way. Sometimes, she can't help but be amused that everything she's done has led to her fixing people's hearts. She's a vampire, surrounded by blood, with a heart that hasn't beat for nearly 30 years, but here she is, making sure every human that comes into her surgical room leaves as capable of living as they can. There are days she finds herself lingering outside of her patient's rooms, wondering if a little of her blood might fix a problem or quicken the healing process. But, she doesn't do it. She can only imagine what that could lead to. If anyone dies from unexpected complications, she'll have a baby vampire on her hands, and her life is hectic enough as it is.

This is her second hospital since she finished med school. It's a little easier to manage things with compulsion, but after moving on from the last hospital, she had to fudge her school records to reflect something a little more believable than a 46-year-old doctor that doesn't look a day over 18. She'll have to move on again soon. It's just the way of her life. Eventually, she'll probably have to give up her medical career, or at least put it on hold for a while. She's considered moving somewhere a little less populated. A small town, where she can set up a private practice for a while.

Walking down the hallway in her scrubs, she makes a stop to change into her regular clothes. It's time for her to clock out and she's more than happy to head home and raid her freezer for a fresh pack of blood. Then she plans on hitting a local club and enjoying herself, getting lost in the collection of bodies all rubbing together, lost in the flashing lights, sweaty skin, and pulsing music.

She's just walked out of the hospital when she hears someone call her name. Pausing, Elena turns, her brow furrowed, and finds a girl leaning back against a pillar. "Do I know you?" Elena asks, smiling faintly as she walks toward her. She's met a lot of people over the years. A lot of patients and families. Many of which have blurred together at this point.

"No." The girl kicks off the pillar and walks toward her. "But, you know someone I need to find."

Elena purses her lips. "That's not ominous at all…" Crossing her arms, she raises an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Bonnie Bennett."

Her back straightens and her shoulders stiffen. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell." She waves a thumb over her shoulder. "I just finished a pretty long shift, so I need to head home. Good luck on your search, though." Elena turns on her heel to leave, but—

"You went to high school together. You graduated in 2010. You look pretty good for 46…"

She stops and turns back to her, eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Call me Brenna. And I'm not here to out you, if that's what you're worried about." She shakes her head. "I just need answers."

"About Bonnie?" Elena shifts back, staring at her suspiciously.

"Do you know where she is?"

"If I did, I wouldn't tell some random girl that shows up at my work and threatens me." She steps forward, eyeing Brenna. "I took a vow, you know. To never do harm. But, there are extenuating circumstances…"

Brenna takes a step back and grinds her teeth. "Do you know where she is or don't you?"

"What do you want with Bonnie?"

With a sneer, she snaps, "None of your business."

"It is if you want my help."

Brenna laughs. "Whatever." She walks forward, knocking her shoulder against Elena's. "I'll find her without you."

Turning to watch her go, Elena shakes her head. "You know, it's been my experience that if someone doesn't want to be found, they _aren't_. You might want to take the hint."

Brenna looks back at her. "Why should I?"

Elena is in front of her in a flash of a moment, her eyes blood-black, veins creeping along her cheeks, and teeth dangerously sharp. "You might end up asking the wrong people the wrong questions… It won't end well for you." This time, Elena knocks Brenna's shoulder as she walks past, en route to the parking lot. Climbing into her car, she activates her Bluetooth and calls Bonnie. As she's pulling away from the hospital, she notices Brenna is nowhere to be seen.

"Elena, hey! I'm not complaining, but you know it's after eleven, right?"

"Yeah, sorry for calling so late, Bon. But, uh, something weird just happened, and I thought I should let you know…"

"Okay, what's up?"

Taking a different route home, just in case, Elena finds herself checking her mirrors, like this strange young woman might just pop up behind her moving car or something. It's been a while since she's really had to deal with any supernatural issues. She's run into a few vampires at the clubs, but it's nothing like what it was in Mystic Falls, where everything was just one step away from the next apocalypse. And she's happier for it. She can have a normal life this way.

"This girl showed up looking for you, asking questions. I asked her why she wanted to know where you were, but she didn't really go for it." She sighs. "I should've compelled her, but, honestly, it just spooked me. I mean, she came out of nowhere, she made it clear she knew what I was… I told her to leave you alone and to stop asking questions, but I'm not sure how much impact I had."

Bonnie sighs. "Matt went through something similar. Some girl showed up in Mystic Falls asking questions. He's not sure what she's looking for either. I don't know who she is or why she's looking for me, but, keep your eyes open. Matt says she left the same day she showed up, but we don't know her or what she'll do. I'll let the others know to keep an eye out for her, too."

Elena nods, despite knowing her friend can't see her. "Hey, Bon, are you okay?" she wonders. "I mean, having someone search you out has to put you on edge. I know you left that life behind a while ago, but you made some enemies. We never really know when another one might show up."

"I'm not panicking, but I'm curious. You're right, I've made a few enemies over the years. As far as I know, none of them know where I am now. I want to keep it that way. But, if this girl finds her way here, I'll be ready for her. I'm just glad she hasn't hurt any of you."

"If she does show up and you need help, call me, all right? I can be there in an hour and a half. Whatever you need."

"I know. And thank you."

"Of course!" Elena smiles faintly. "I know it's late, but we haven't talked in a while. If you've got some time…"

"I do."

It took some time for Bonnie to feel ready to invite Elena back into her life, and she tried to be understanding. But, the more time she spent away from Bonnie, the more she missed her. Everything with her and Damon was just history; she didn't want to lose Bonnie's friendship over something as insignificant as a man. Especially when that man made it clear that he wouldn't be changing his mind. So, Elena was grateful when Bonnie started reaching back. Their friendship was still long-distance with her in New York and Bonnie in Pennsylvania, but they called as often as they could, and the whole gang got together for big holidays and birthdays. It was something. A connection to her old life that Elena refused to let go of. Some days, she wasn't sure where her life was heading. She had a lot of it to live yet. Possibly an eternity. The one good thing was knowing that, for a while at least, she still had all of her friends. Scattered as they were. Eventually, she'd have to let go of, even bury, some of them. But, she preferred not to think of that. All of them had built their lives up to a place where they were happy, that's all that mattered.

"How's life?" she asks, and settles deeper into her seat, happy to get lost in the details of Bonnie's life. So different from her own, but no less happy. She hopes that, whoever this strange girl is that showed up, she doesn't end up derailing the life Bonnie's worked so hard to have, molding it into exactly what she wants and deserves.

.

.

.

Brenna leaves the hospital annoyed. She holes up a coffee shop—a stale Danish and too much caffeine sloshing around inside her— and ends up digging out the musty yearbook again. She's just about to start searching for Caroline Forbes when she spots a picture of Bonnie Bennett with someone named Tyler Lockwood, his arm thrown around her shoulders as she looks up at him, amused. They're standing in a dim room, next to a pool table, each holding a cue. At the very least, they were friendly, once upon a time.

A cursory search for Tyler Lockwood finds an old wedding announcement from 2017 to someone named Liv Parker. She and her brother Luke run a boarding house/school in Temecula, California for 'lost youth.' Essentially, children that were kicked out by their families and need a new start. It's not an orphanage, though. If Brenna has to guess, based on the wording used on the webpage, she thinks it's for witches and warlocks that have been disowned by their covens. Interesting thought.

According to a birth announcement, Tyler and Liv Lockwood have two sons—Mason and Josh Lockwood. 19-year-old twins that attend Arizona State University and are a part of the Gamma Zeta Alpha fraternity. Brenna can't help but wonder if maybe a couple of frat boys would be easier to get answers out of, since the people that actually knew and went to school with Bonnie were tight-lipped.

With that in mind, she packs what little she has and heads out again. It's going to take a while to get from New York to Arizona, but she decides not to think about that. Whatever it takes, she's going to find Bonnie Bennett.

.

.

.

In Kansas, Brenna is ambushed by a pair of vampires. It's her own fault. She's tired and hungry and she's been hitchhiking for a lot longer than she expected to. It's starting to wear on her, cleaning up in gas station bathrooms, avoiding the leering gaze of whoever picks her up on the road. It's not safe, but it's her only option right now.

She's leaving a rundown bathroom in Garden City. It's just after sunset, but the air is still too warm. Her skin is sticky with sweat and her shirt clings to her back. She's distracted when she's suddenly pinned to the brick wall of the gas station, her head knocking against it hard enough to make her vision swim. Panicked, she's not sure what to do. One has their hand around her throat while the other acts as watch-out.

"She's a pretty little thing…" the one closest to her says, nosing at her cheek, veins moving across his face.

Her heart is jack-hammering in her chest, hard enough that she's not sure she won't just drop dead right there on the pavement.

But then—

 _Thwack_.

Her attacker turns to see his cohort's body laid out on the ground, a stake sticking out of his chest, skin grey and dull.

He turns to see who did it, only to suffer the same fate.

As he too slumps to the ground, she turns in the direction the stakes came from, only to see a man step forward. Early-forties, brown hair, and broad shoulders. "You all right?" he asks, walking toward the bodies to bend and check on them, making sure they're both truly dead.

"I… Yeah. I—I'm fine." She reaches up to rub at her neck. "Who are you?"

He glances at her briefly. "You shouldn't be walking around here alone. I've been tracking these two since Abilene, and they've been on your tail since Dighton."

Her mouth purses then. "You knew they were following me?"

He stands and hooks his crossbow to his back. "As long as they were focused on you, I could get the drop on them a little easier."

"Gee, thanks." She rolls her eyes. "What kind of vampire hunter risks human life?"

"I didn't let them get you, did I?" He stares at her. "You're taking this better than expected."

"I have some experience with vampires." She crosses her arms over her chest. "You never answered my question…"

"Name's Jeremy." He flicks his fingers in a vague wave.

"Brenna," she tells him.

He hums, and then starts going through the vampires' pockets for identification or something. The 'or something' turns out to be whatever cash they have on them, which he pockets. She can't find fault there; it's not like they'll need it.

"You've been doing this a while?" she wonders.

His mouth turns up in a faint smile, but it looks more bitter than amused. "You could say that."

"So, then, you know a lot of supernatural people, right?"

"Most of the supernaturals I know end up dead," he reminds her pointedly.

"Sure, the vampires. But, what about witches or werewolves?"

"I've taken out my share of werewolves, when it's necessary. Rogue witches on power trips, too. But, not as often."

"Have you ever heard of the Bennetts?" she wonders.

He pauses and glances at her. "Sure. Why?"

"I've been looking for one. I need to talk to her."

With a snort, Jeremy stands. "Let me guess, you need her help with something."

Crossing her arms, she shrugs. "You could say that."

He stares at her a moment and then looks away, to the darkening skyline. "There's only a few Bennetts around. One's a vampire. She lives out in Connecticut. Haven't seen Lucy Bennett in almost twenty years. Couldn't tell you where she ended up. If you're looking for Bonnie, you'd have an easier time finding Damon Salvatore. Wherever she is, he'd know better than me." His mouth twists up at that, just short of a sneer.

"Damon Salvatore," she repeats. She's not sure what to do with the information, but she files it away, just in case.

"What do you need with a Bennett?"

Brenna hooks her bag a little higher on her shoulder. "When you're done with the vamps, where are you headed?"

He lets her change the subject. "I've got a job in Albuquerque."

"New Mexico?" She nods. "Do you think… I mean, if I helped you get rid of the bodies, could I catch a ride with you? I'm headed to Arizona."

Jeremy nods. "Sure. Could use the help."

Together, they toss the bodies in a hole, light them up, and then cover them with dirt. After, Jeremy drives them to a diner on the outskirts of town. He buys her a milkshake, burger, fries, and two slices of pie. He's not much of a talker and he seems to brood enough that it's made a permanent furrow of his brows. But, he's nice enough. The hunting life isn't an easy one, but he seems to enjoy it. On the ride to Albuquerque, he tells her some of his more infamous kills.

They're driving through Clayton when she realizes he doesn't just know _about_ Bonnie Bennett, but he actually knows her.

"You grew up in Mystic Falls?"

He nods. "Born and bred. That's where all this hunting stuff kicked off for me. Felt like a domino effect. One minute I'm burying my parents, the next, my sister is dating a vampire. Then she's got a doppelganger, her best friend is a witch, her other best friend gets turned by _said_ doppelganger, and my sort-of girlfriend's other boyfriend is a werewolf." He snorts. "It was crazy."

"Doppelganger?"

"Long story." He shakes his head, staring out at the road ahead. "You asked about the Bennetts, though. I knew Bonnie. Back when she was just realizing she was a witch, actually. We dated for a while. It was off and on, up and down. We died a few times, came back, and after a while, that life serves you up a choice. Either you stay there, keep fighting that fight 'til it puts you in a permanent grave, or you take the fight somewhere else. Try to stop the problem on a global scale instead of whoever wanders into town that week. I decided I couldn't stick around there, fighting a symptom. So, I left, took to the road. Been doing it ever since."

"And Bonnie?"

"She stayed for a while, saved the town every other day. Then she moved on, too. Started doing the same thing."

"She was a hunter?"

"I don't know if she'd call it that. She's always had a bit of a hero complex. Or a martyr complex, depending on where you're standing… She hit the road looking for people to help and problems to solve. Put her powers to use trying to make life a little easier for other people."

"Sounds pretty selfless."

"Yeah, that's Bonnie for you." He lets out a long sigh. "She gave that life up a while back, though. No idea what she's doing now."

"You don't talk?"

"We, uh, stopped talking when we realized our lives were going in different directions. I was hunting vampires, she was befriending them.."

"Befriending?" she asks, incredulous.

"Yeah." He frowns. "Can't always fault her. My sister's a vampire. Bonnie and Elena were best friends since childhood. She wasn't about to turn her back on her over something she couldn't change. But, I drew the line at my sister. Every other vampire was up for grabs. Bonnie didn't feel the same way."

Brenna finds herself stuck on the part where Jeremy is Elena Gilbert's brother. She presses her lips together, panic flooding her. The one and only time she met Elena, the vampire doctor had made it clear that Brenna needed to stay out of her way and stop asking questions about Bonnie. She took the threat seriously. Jeremy's a little more loose lips about the whole thing, probably because he seems burned by his history with Bonnie.

"If you ever find her, pass on a message for me?" Jeremy asks.

Brenna nods.

"Tell her… I hope she's happy. I really do. Whatever choices she made, even if they weren't the same as me… She deserved a good life. A lot better than she had when I knew her."

Brenna clears her throat. "I'll tell her."

.

.

.

Josh Lockwood is still trying to hammer out the set list for tomorrow night, sitting at a table at Al's Bar. Technically, he's not allowed inside the bar. But, Al's a former Gamma Zeta Alpha brother, so he lets them in. They're not allowed to drink, hence the bottle of water on his desk, but they are allowed to play their music, as long as at least two of their songs are in Spanish, an homage to their roots. Half-Latino on their father's side, it's the reason they joined GZA instead of a different frat. Their other roots—werewolf on their father's side and witch on their mother's—aren't exactly something they can express to the general public. Even if its seems to thread through their songs in metaphors and similes.

He's scratching out a song title he's not sure will fit within the time slot they have when he hears a scuffling noise coming from the back of the room. He lifts his head and focuses, extending his hearing. It's mid-afternoon, which means the bar isn't packed, but the people that are there aren't exactly savory. There's a surprisingly large concentration of werewolves in Phoenix, which only serves to remind Josh that wolves are entirely too territorial. His dad heads a pack back in Temecula, a mixture of wolves and hybrids. Tyler's a good leader, which means the pack is more controlled. The wolves that wander around Phoenix are a little less housetrained.

"…some little vampire groupie, is that right?" He knows that voice— _Chase Addams_.

"What? _No_." A woman, not someone Josh recognizes. "Wait, are you saying he's a vampire?"

"Is he a vampire?" Chase snorts. "Check this novice out. First time dipping your toe in the supernatural pool, kid?"

"I'm not a _kid_."

"You sure look like a kid. A kid that's asking some dangerous questions… Damon Salvatore killed one of my uncles. Any friend of his is no friend of mine."

"I was just asking a _question_ ," the girl snaps. "I'm not asking for trouble."

"Too bad, sweetheart. You got it."

"What's going on?" a voice asks, much closer.

Josh turns to see his brother, Mason, frowning at the back of the room. He shakes his head. "Girl's in over her head."

"Did I hear right? She was asking about Damon?"

"Sounds like it."

"Think we should intervene?" Mason crosses his arms over his chest, a frown marring his mouth.

Josh sighs and stands from the table, dropping his pencil back down on his notebook. "Probably. We should at least find out why she's asking around about him. Can't do that if she's dog chow."

Mason snorts. "You're a real bleeding heart, Josh." He starts for the back of the room then, whistling to draw the group's attention. "What's going on, boys?"

"None of your business, Lockwood," Chase says. He's tall and broad, his neck so thick it's almost unnatural.

"Anyone ever tell you you're a bully?" Mason glances at the girl. She's a tiny thing, a wisp of a girl, but wild and angry, glaring at anybody she sees. Like a cornered animal, ready to attack. "It gives the rest of us a bad name."

Chase sneers at him, his eyes flashing gold. "Like I said, this isn't your business. We're not on your terf."

"Last I checked, Al's name was on the front. Meaning this is neutral ground. You wanna piss on something, take it outside." He waves at the girl, telling her to move closer with a crook of his fingers. "Girl's off limits."

"Says _who?_ "

Josh steps up then, an inch taller than his brother. Broad where Mason is lean. "Says me."

"You wanna start this fight, we can go right here, right now." Chase steps forward, chest puffed up. "Let's see if you can thrown down like your old man."

"My dad would tell me to keep a cool head and not knock you on your ass, since you're just a puppy on steroids trying to show off for his buddies." He grins then. "But, my dad's not here, so…"

He headbutts Chase, sending him stumbling back, dazed and angry.

With a bark of a laugh, Mason jumps into the fray.

Altogether, the fights lasts less than two minutes before Al is there, shooing Chase and his buddies out the door, a little bloodier than when they arrived. Al shouts at Mason and Josh that it's on them to clean up the mess they've made. Broken glass and shattered chairs and tables litter the floor. Mason wanders off to get a broom and dustpan while Josh finds the girl sitting at his old table, her booted feet up on an adjacent chair.

"You always go through this much trouble for strangers?" she asks.

"My parents would kick my ass if I stood by and let some kid get roughed up." He pulls a chair out and takes a seat. "Besides, I overheard your little argument. You were looking for someone, that right?"

She stares at him a beat, her eyes narrowed. "Damon Salvatore."

He hums and nods. "Any particular reason?"

"It's personal." She tilts her chin up, defensive.

Josh leans back in his chair, hooking an arm around the back. "If I didn't know my uncle as well as I do, I'd ask if you were some illegitimate child of his."

"Uncle?" She blinks, surprised.

"All my life. He bought me my first drum set when I was ten. I'm pretty sure it was just to piss my dad off, but it worked out." He watches her. "You're kinda young to be hanging around bars, hassling werewolves."

"Is there a right age to hassle werewolves?"

His mouth kicks up. "So, what are you then?" He sniffs at her. "You don't stink of death, so you're not a vamp."

Hugging her arms around herself, she leans back in her chair. "I just need to find Damon. You got an address for him?"

"Not one I hand out to strangers."

She sighs, frustrated.

"But, I might know a place you can find him. Somewhere a little more neutral…" He digs his wallet out then and pulls a card from the lining. _The Salve_ is etched across the front, with a phone number, address, and email. "For all your magical solutions…" He hands the car to her. "You'll find him there. And he'll know you're coming."

"Because you'll tell him?"

He shrugs, unrepentant. "We're family. Which is why you should know, if you're going there to start trouble, you plan on hurting him or something… He's got people behind him. Witches, wolves, vampires, even humans… Keep that in mind before you open any cans of vendetta."

"I'm not going there to start something." Standing, she tucks the card into the pocket of her jeans. "He knows someone I need to find. That's all."

"You say so." Josh eyes her as she gathers up her bag and starts for the door. "You should be more careful about who you ask questions, though."

"If this pans out, I won't have to ask anymore." She doesn't look back as she walks out the door.

Half-smiling, Josh shakes his head. "Good luck."

.

.

.

 _The Salve_ is a shop in New Hope, Pennsylvania that caters strictly to the supernatural. There's a sparse website, where the biggest seller appears to be the vervain, which they can ship for a cost. Well, that and a speciality honey candle that runs out of stock pretty quick. As far as she can tell, it has no magical properties; it's just a nice smelling candle. Getting all the way to Pennsylvania from Arizona means backtracking across all the space she's already covered. But, it's the first _real_ lead she has, so she takes it.

Brenna splurges on a motel room in Indianapolis, mostly because she needs a real shower and not just some wet toilet paper in a grungy gas station bathroom. It's nothing special. A bedroom with a TV that's chained down, a bible in the bedside table, and a cramped bathroom. She picks up a greasy bag of food at the nearest McDonalds and plops down in the center of her bed, picking at her chicken nuggets.

Three months ago, Brenna had laid her mother to rest. Some days are harder than others. But, this, tracking down any sign of Bonnie Bennett, has allowed her to hide from that pain a little. It's just been one very long drive, hopping from car to car, place to place, searching out any scrap of information she can find. She's still not sure what she'll say to Bonnie when she finds her. She just knows she needs to.

Fishing her laptop out of her bag, she starts doing research on Damon Salvatore. It's a bit of a rabbit hole, but she realizes soon enough that there was a Damon Salvatore, born back in the 1840's. Son of a founding father to Mystic Falls and a member of the Confederate Army (gross). Since the wolves back in Phoenix made it clear that Damon was a vampire, it's not a stretch to think he's the same guy that was killed in a shoot out at Mystic Falls during the Civil War. All her research does is leave her with more questions. Why would this vampire know anything about Bonnie? Then again, Jeremy said something about her befriending vamps... Maybe this was who he meant.

Finishing her food, she rolls off her bed, tosses the grease-stained bag and containers in the garbage, and heads for the bathroom. She needs a shower, extra-hot, and then she's going to get some sleep. Tomorrow, she's going to buy a bus ticket to New Hope. Low on money as it is, it was just easier to buy it a little closer. Or that's what she tells herself. Sometimes, she wonders if maybe now that she's getting close, she might be avoiding the inevitable. In a day, maybe two, she'll find Damon Salvatore and, if things go as planned, she'll know where Bonnie is. It's as scary as it is exciting. Which means it's terrifying.

.

.

.

"Hey, Tyler," Bonnie greets, balancing her phone between her ear and shoulder as she makes her way through the den, tidying up as she goes. "I'm going to take a wild guess that you're calling because of a mysterious girl? Josh called me yesterday to let me know what happened."

"She never made it out our way. I know Josh sent her toward Damon, though."

"Yeah, he's keeping his eyes peeled. He's not too worried, though."

He snorts. "Or he's just good at hiding it."

"You know Damon." She stands at the bookshelf, searching out where each book goes absently. "He thinks he can take on any threat that comes our way."

"Yeah, well, in case you can't, you know you can ask us for help. I promised you I'd always be here, and I meant it. Whoever this girl is, whatever she wants, if you need anything…"

Bonnie smiles to herself. Her friends have been nothing but supportive over these last twenty-plus years, but every once in a while, they remind her that they're always willing to go to war for her, and it never fails to make her heart jump. "I know. And if it comes to that, I'll call," she assures. "Between Matt, Elena and Josh, all I keep hearing is that she's just a kid."

"Yeah, but appearances can be deceiving."

Bonnie knows that all too well, so she nods along. "Well, I'm not sure what she's looking for, but I've met my fair share of desperate people. Some are just looking for someone to fix whatever's gone wrong in their lives..."

"She's going through a lot of trouble for a magical fix-it."

"Given our own history, I think we know what lengths people will go to." Finished with her tidying, she takes a seat in an oversized armchair and draw her legs up under her. "I don't know. I'm not getting that 'impending doom' feeling, so I'm trying to hope for the best."

"Fingers crossed you're right. Just in case, keep your phone handy. Liv's practically got a bag packed. Might take us a while to get there, but we'll take the first flight out if it's serious."

She grins to herself. "And I appreciate the enthusiastic support. I really do. But, you've got a family to think about."

"You're part of my family, Bon. Liv would say that same. She's still hoping you take her up on that offer and come teach at the school. You and Damon both."

"We're considering it."

"It's always on the table. But, we can talk about that after whatever this Brenna girl is up to."

Bonnie chews her lip. "I don't want to jump to conclusions until I figure out what's happening."

"Let me know when you do."

"I will. And Tyler…? Thank you."

"Anytime. Have a good night."

"You, too."

Hanging up, she puts her phone aside and sinks back in her armchair. It's been a long day and, every time one of her friends calls to mention this Brenna girl looking for her, she finds herself contemplating what it could mean. Nearly eight years ago, she gave up the mantle of 'protector' and set down roots. She can't help but wonder if someone that was negatively impacted by her heroics might be looking for her to settle the score. It wouldn't be the first time. Probably wouldn't be the last time either. Still, she'd rather put an end to Brenna's search and find out what she wants already. Better to face her and figure it out than spend her life wondering when she might show up.

.

.

.

The front door makes a distinct whining noise when it opens; it's something Damon always adds to his mental list of 'things to be fixed' but never gets around to. He's doing one last walk-through before he heads out for the night, checking that everything's spic and span for the morning. He pulls his leather jacket on as he walks out, calling, "Place is closed. Hence that blinking red 'Closed' sign I know I plugged in…"

When there's no answer, he frowns, but keeps walking, until he's just short of the door, where a girl is standing. Or, he's guessing it's a girl. At some point it started raining and their thick, soaked hair covers much of their face. The rest of them is dripping on his freshly swept and mopped floor.

"Oh, great, just what I wanted, my own homeless stranger…"

"I'm not homeless," they bite out.

"It speaks." He sighs. "Not that this isn't… _riveting_. But, I've got things to do and places to be, so… Spit it out."

Reaching up, she pushes her hair back from her face, showing just how young she is. She can't be much older than sixteen, a skinny little thing, with brown skin, brown eyes, and a stubborn frown on her mouth. "I need your help."

Tossing his keys from one hand to the other, he says, "You always ask people you don't know for help?"

"Only when I really need it." She shivers a little and wraps her arms around herself. "I'm looking for someone… A witch."

Damon pauses. He was already somewhat sure of who she was, but now he knows it. This is the girl that's been bouncing around to all of their friends, searching for Bonnie. "Oh, goody, a _crazy_ homeless stranger."

"I _said_ I'm not homeless!" She stomps her foot, much like a toddler might. Her hands ball up into fists and she grits her teeth at him. "And it's not just any witch. It's a special _kind_ of witch."

"That clears things up." He nods and then points to the door. "Glad we had this talk."

Shaking her head, she glares at him. "I had to hitchhike a _really_ long way to get here. Like, sketchy truck drivers and weird family road trips galore. I've been attacked by vampires, werewolves, and pervy men just so I could be here."

"And look at that, you survived. Life experiences _can_ be good. Give mommy a call, ask for a bus ticket home. I'll even point you toward the bus station if you stop dripping on my floor."

"This is The Salve, right? An old-school apothecary to witches and warlocks?" She rocks back on her heels and stares at him. "I asked a lot of people about where this place was and how to find it. Not a lot of locals come here; apparently most of your customer base is from out of town."

"Old-school is offensive to my sensibilities. Contrary to the silver fox thing I have going, I'm hardly what you'd called 'old.'"

She snorts at that. "Unless I'm mixing you up with someone else, I'm pretty sure old is _exactly_ what you are. Like, 200, _at least_."

"I see no one taught you _math_ while you were hitchhiking."

She glares. "I know who you are. I did my research."

"Considering I'm the co-owner of this shop and you spent too much of your time looking for it, I'd be disappointed if you couldn't figure out my name. But, trust me, Kid. You have no _idea_ who I am." His eyes widened. "And you're still wasting my time, so…"

"They said you could help me find her. The witch I'm looking for…" She stares at him searchingly. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"You're gonna have to be more specific about who 'her' is."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "I seriously need to spell it out for you?"

"Consider me slow on the uptake—"

"Not a stretch," she mutters.

He grins. "Who _exactly_ are you looking for?"

She purses her lips. And then says, with great gravity, "Bonnie Bennett."

Damon stares at her a long beat. "Who you think is a _witch?_ Am I getting that right?"

"I _know_ she is." She scowls. "You _need_ to bring me to her."

"Oh, now I _need_ to." He squints. "What happens if I say no?"

Teeth gritted, she tilts her chin up stubbornly. "I'll make you."

His mouth widens in a grin. "Is that right?"

"Yeah. It is." She puts her hands on her hips and plants her feet. "I can take you."

"You think so?" He starts walking toward her.

Spooking, her stubborn expression falters a little, and her shoulders tighten. "Stop," she tells him.

"What's wrong? Can't back your words up with anything?"

She throws her hands up. "I _can_!"

"Prove it."

Breathing picking up, she panics, and says, " _Incendia!_ " Unfortunately for her, it's the water around her feet that catches fire. With a shriek, she stomps at it, trying to put it out.

With a faint chuckle, Damon waves a hand, and the fire is doused.

Looking up, shocked, she stares at him. "But… You're a _vampire_ ," she accuses.

"I think you might have some outdated information, Kid."

"I'm not a _kid_ ," she snarls. "My name is Brenna."

"Uh-huh. Well, _Brenna_ , now that you've thoroughly embarrassed yourself and possibly destroyed my floor…" He flicks his fingers and the door opens at her back. "Nice meeting you." With another flick, she's tossed through the door to land on her butt, staring up at him from her soggy cloud of hair. "Happy hitchhiking!"

"Wait!" she calls, pushing herself up from the ground.

Damon doesn't and the door abruptly closes and locks.

As he walks away, an unspoken spell makes the puddle she left behind evaporate. Digging his phone out of his jeans, he sends a group text about the mysterious 'Brenna' that's finally made her debut.

"Hey, asshole!" she curses, kicking the door with her foot. "My name is Brenna _Bennett!_ "

Damon stops then and slowly turns back around to squint at the door. "Says who?"

"Says my _mother_ ," she snaps back. "Her name was Lucy!"

He steps closer then. "Was?"

"She died." Her voice is subdued now, quiet and frustrated. "Please, I— I'm just trying to find what's left of my family. I don't want anything from her. I just… I don't have anyone else left."

A second passes, and then another.

Another kick hits the door, but this one is defeated. " _Whatever_ … I don't need her anyway! I don't need anyone!"

Damon can see her moving past the window then, her head down, and before he knows it, he's at the door, opening it, and stepping out into the rain. He can hear her muttering to herself— "...such a stupid idea. I don't even know why I came all the way out here for some stupid distant relative. Such an _idiot_ …"

"Wait," he calls out.

She pauses, but doesn't turn around.

Damon purses her lips. "If you are a Bennett—"

She whirls then, glaring at him, incensed. "I _am!_ " And, if he's honest, he's seeing the family resemblance now...

"It's not a long drive. Maybe ten minutes from here. I'm game if you are."

She's suspicious now. "You'll take me to her?"

"Sure. But, fair warning, if you aren't who you say you are… I can do a lot more than just knock you on your ass." His brows hike. "She's had her fair share of power-hungry dicks looking to make a name for themselves. If you're another one, I'll bury you out back with the others."

She skips forward, looking hopeful now. "You really know her?"

His mouth hitches up at the corner. "You could say that." He motions to his car, sitting in front of the shop. "Now or never? This offer's got a time limit…"

"Now. Definitely." She hurries toward the passenger side door and waits, eagerly.

Damon leans inside the shop to turn the lights out and then locks the door and makes his way over to the car. "Try not to drip on the upholstery."

She rolls her eyes. "Unrealistic much?"

He flicks his fingers at her and she dries immediately. "Witch much?"

Looking down at herself in surprise, she quickly climbs inside the car and wipes her hands over her dried jeans. "How'd you do that? You didn't even say anything."

"It was a non-verbal spell. And one I made up myself. Maybe if you're nice, I'll let you look through the family grimoire." Turning the ignition in the car, he checks his mirrors before pulling out onto the road.

"This car is ancient," she tells him, reaching out to fiddle with the stereo.

"Vintage," he corrects. "And she's been around longer than you have, so have a little respect."

Rolling her eyes, she settles on a station she likes and sits back, tucking her hands between her thighs. "The werewolves I talked to were pretty convinced that you were a vampire."

"And you were asking around about me because…?"

"Finding Bonnie was full of dead-ends. I went to Mystic Falls and practically went door to door looking for information. They pointed me toward the Sheriff; he went to high school with her."

"Yeah, Matty Blue Eyes. How's he doing? Haven't seen him since Christmas."

"Fine, I guess." She shrugs. "Anyway, he never told me anything."

"You mention you were a Bennett?"

"No. I'm not _stupid_. I don't spread that around to just anybody…"

"Smart. But, who pointed you my way?"

"A vampire hunter in Kansas. Jeremy Gilbert."

"Jer-Bear," he mutters, his mouth screwed up with distaste.

"He didn't say a lot. I guess he's not close to Bonnie anymore. But, he did say that you'd know where she is. After that, I actually _did_ have a little success. Just FYI, you don't have a lot of admirers out there. In fact, you have a lot of enemies." She slumps down in her seat. "Most of them said that if I ever found you, I should let them know where."

"Yeah, well, not everybody's a fan." He turns off onto a side road. "What led you out here?"

"I ran into some trouble with a werewolf pack at a bar in Phoenix when a couple of frat boys intervened. _Also_ werewolves, just not as dick-ish. Josh gave me a card and pointed me out here."

Damon sighs, long and loud. "The Lockwood boys. Of course they'd help out a damsel in distress."

"I'm not a _damsel_. I could've handled them just fine. They just did it first."

"Hmm… Boneheads, both of them."

"They weren't _awful_."

"Oh, they have hearts of gold, but they're still idiots."

She frowns and raises an eyebrow at him. "I feel like you say that about a lot of people…"

"Only when it's warranted." The car slows down as he reaches a closed gate. He rolls down his window and reaches through it to plug in the 6-digit password. As he draws his arm back in, the gates whir and open. They drive through, and ahead, on a sloping hill, sits a house. A two-storey that seems to glow against the colorful background of the setting sun. A sprawling field of a yard surrounds it, with a lone willow tree right next to it.

"She lives here?"

"She does."

The road forks a quarter of the way up, leading further down, past the house, to somewhere unseen. Damon drives forward, though, directly toward the house. To the right of it is a two-car garage, the doors closed. He pulls up to the front and cuts the engine.

Brenna stares out the window at the oversized wood door with a tall, stained glass window next to it.

"Ready?" Damon asks, but he doesn't wait for an answer. Pushing his door open, he climbs out and circles the car.

Nervously, Brenna joins him, chewing on her lip. She hugs her arms around her as she follows behind him.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _so, originally, the epilogue was this like 5k little story, but it started to feel more like a sequel than an epilogue. so then i started over, and it became a 20k mini-story, but i liked it too much not to share it. a big part of bonnie's journey was feeling along and not having any family left. so, here's brenna, another bennett that's also struggling with life. she's a bit of a mirror to bonnie. this lost 17-year-old whose mother's recently died and all she wants is to find another bennett. i am curious to know if anyone guessed that, actually. i also wanted to take the time to show that all of bonnie's old friends have their own lives, but they're all still so linked to her and freely offer to help in any way they can._

 _for those curious, i had china anne mcclain in mind as a faceclaim when i wrote brenna._

 _the second part is the last part to all of this, so we get to see a lot more bamon and how their life is now._ _it's already finished. i made sure to get it done before i posted this. i was going to post it all in one go, but it is 20k and the 17k chapter felt like it might've been overwhelming for you guys. so i thought i'd split this one up into two. i'm happy to post sooner rather than later, i'd just like to see some reviews for this chapter before i do._

 _thanks so much for reading; please, try to leave a review!  
_ **\- Lee | Fina**


	6. epilogue: part two

**chapter rating** : pg-13/teen  
 **word count** : 11,720

* * *

 **Epilogue**.

 **PART TWO**

Caroline texts constantly. It doesn't bother Bonnie as much as it could; she knows her friend is only worried. Ever since news of this 'Brenna' has made its way around the group, everyone's gone out of their way to check in with Bonnie and make sure she isn't in danger. She loves them for it, but she's getting a little tired of the tension and worry floating around. She'd much rather meet Brenna and just get it over with.

With a roast in the oven and a barrage of unread and unanswered texts piling up from Caroline, Bonnie puts her phone on speaker as she moves around the kitchen, talking shop with a regular customer.

"I can have a shipment out by this weekend," she says. "I'm guessing by the quantity that you're putting it in the town's water supply."

Jordyn, someone Bonnie met early on in her 'heroic' career, snorts. "At this point, I kind of have to. I don't know how bad Mystic Falls is, but we get some strange people around Salem."

"Is there ley line activity or do you think it's just because of the town's reputation?" After digging out a good knife for chopping vegetables, she closes the drawer with her hip. "Mystic Falls has a high concentration of ley lines, but there's also a lot of history and a lot of bloodshed. It leaves an impression."

"I'd say 50/50. We get a lot of tourists that just want to freak themselves out and vampires use that to their advantage. But, the town has a reputation for a reason. And I've looked it up, we do have our fair share of ley lines..."

Bonnie hums. "Well, I'll help how I can. Shipment shouldn't take too long to get there."

"Thanks. We seriously appreciate it. I don't know where we'd be without your help."

"It's no big deal," Bonnie dismisses lightly. "Always happy to help."

"Bon, I've known you almost ten years, and you've saved my bacon a few dozen times."

"Like you said, you live in a highly supernatural area. Anyway, I'm glad we ran into each other. If I remember correctly, you saved me the first time around."

"One rogue werewolf can hardly compare to how many vamps you've helped me put down."

"I'm not keeping a tally." She carries a colander of veggies to the sink to scrub them clean. "That was our job then. Bouncing around, helping out where we could. We wanted to make a difference."

"And you did." Jordyn sighs. "I still get people that come around here looking for you. You're a bit of a legend around these parts."

Bonnie scoffs. "For what?"

"You've put down some big players. Things like that get around." She clucks her tongue. "If you weren't out of the game—"

" _Happily_ out of the game."

"Still, you were good at it, you know? I know it was dangerous, but you really evened the playing field out."

Bonnie half-smiles. She's a bit nostalgic, if she's honest. Once upon a time, she and Damon were the biggest threat around, and people knew it. They would arrive in a town, bent on helping the people, and put down whatever enemy they faced. It felt good, knowing she was using her powers to help others. But, it wasn't without its downsides. "I have my fair share of scars that say otherwise, but thank you."

"Anytime. That reminds me... I know vervain is usually your go-to response to problems like this, but is there any chance you might be able to get werewolf saliva?"

She pauses. "Are you planning a particularly long and cruel death for a specific vampire or...?"

"Not a specific one, no. But, I feel like having it on hand could keep a few bloodsuckers at bay."

Bonnie hums. "I can get some, if I ask nicely, but it's not something I would give to just anybody. You know my rule..."

"' _Only the deserving_.' I know. It's a little hard to parse out who is or isn't lacking in a soul when I've got hungry vamps taking a bite out of our local economy every other day."

"I get it. The vampire problem down there is serious. But, werewolf saliva isn't much of a quick fix." Much as Bonnie doesn't like vampires, at least in the general sense, she's seen what a werewolf bite can do to them, and she's not eager to do that to anyone else. Not unless it's the only option left.

"Hence, the vervain. But, the saliva could give me a little edge."

She frowns thoughtfully. "Let me think about it. And see who might be willing to lend a hand. All right?"

"Sure. Thanks!"

"No problem. I'll bill it to the same card you gave me last time. Let me know when it arrives."

"I will! Have a good night!"

"You, too."

As her phone disconnects, Bonnie brings her vegetables back over to the counter and the waiting chopping board before digging out a salad bowl. She's slicing a cucumber when her phone lights up with Caroline's familiar face. Rolling her eyes, she reaches over and answers it.

"You're getting a little clingy, you know that?"

"You didn't answer my texts!" Caroline cries.

"Care, I'm making dinner and dealing with work. My hands are a little full."

"Well, too bad. There's some snoopy stranger wandering around asking questions about where to find you. I can't believe I'm all the way in Florence while this is happening... Maybe I should come back," she worries.

"No, definitely not." Bonnie shakes her head, her hair brushing her shoulders. "You've been putting this trip off for over a month. You've only been there a week. Whoever Brenna is, she's not here. I'm _fine_ , I promise."

Caroline sighs, not completely convinced. "I just find it sketchy. Aren't you worried?"

Bonnie presses her lips together. "Not really," she admits.

" _How?_ I'm in a completely different continent and _I'm_ nervous."

"You're an anxious person." Bonnie shrugs as she cuts up a few mushrooms to toss in the bowl. "In the past, I could usually feel when something was coming. I'd just get this icy, prickling sensation right in my bones. Like, _death_ was reaching out and giving me a head's up..."

"That's not creepy at all," Caroline mutters.

"It was, and it was unnerving. Every big threat we faced, all the enemies we fought, I always got that feeling before they showed up. This doesn't feel like that. I don't know who Brenna is or what she wants, but I'm not getting any 'impending doom' feelings."

"Well, not to knock your gut or anything, but I'm still going to worry about you until we figure out who she is."

Bonnie grins. "As soon as I know, you'll know."

"Good."

"Onto more interesting things, how is Beth enjoying Florence?"

"She _loves_ it," Caroline says, her voice ripe with adoration. "I don't know how much she's getting out of it, but I'm cramming as much sight-seeing in as I can. I know we've got tons of time to show her everything, but it's weird. Time just feels like it's going by so fast sometimes. I can't believe she's already five."

"She's still your baby and she always will be. From the day you brought her home from the adoption agency, she's been attached to your hip."

"Yeah, well, she's got Stefan wrapped around her finger. You know how I am. I _want_ to spoil her rotten, but I also know my limits. It's been seven days and I have no idea how we're going to get everything he's already bought her back home. We might have to just ship it ahead of us. I'm not kidding, Bonnie. She saw a horse yesterday and Stefan asked how much it was and then started looking up what it would take to have a horse moved from Italy to back home. I mean, don't get me wrong. We have plenty of room and building a barn wouldn't take _that_ much, but still. It's the principle of the matter."

Bonnie grins to herself. "I know the feeling. I'm glad you're having fun, though. It sounds like Beth is enjoying herself."

"I'm glad we're doing it before she starts school. I'm excited for her to get out there and spread her wings, but I'm _definitely_ going to cry on her first day of kindergarten."

"Well, you have a few months before that happens. Are you guys planning on spending the summer there, too? Or are you traveling around a bit?"

"We haven't decided. Florence is beautiful, but there's a lot more to see out there. Once June ends, though, we might move on. We're trying to narrow down a short list of places we want to show her."

"We might come out and meet you somewhere this summer. I've got my hopes set on a nice, sandy beach. We can spend a couple weeks catching up under the sun."

"That'd be great! Are you sure you don't want to come out sooner?"

Amused, she shakes her head. "I know you're worried, but honestly, I'm not."

"Fine." Caroline sighs. "But, I still want to be the first person you call if she shows up."

There's a certain presence that Damon has that fills up a room, or, in this case, a _house_. Bonnie can feel it in the air as soon as he gets home. A warm feeling of anticipation bubbles up inside her. "Hey, Care, I gotta go. Dinner's almost ready and I think Damon's home. We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. Just, stay safe in the meantime!" she demands. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Bonnie refocuses on the salad, throwing the last of it into a bowl just as she hears Damon's voice call out to her from the hallway.

.

.

.

Damon pushes the front door open and walks inside the house, wiping his feet on the welcome mat as he goes. He kicks his shoes off just inside the door, shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on one of a line of wooden hook strung across the wall. The ringing of a bell can be heard before a black cat hurries down the stairs and makes its way to Damon, weaving in and around his feet as he walks. He reaches down to scratch its head and drag a hand down its slinky back before he continues down the hallway.

"Bon! You'll never guess what was left outside of my shop…"

"Damon, I swear, if you brought home _another_ cat you found in some random box, you're sleeping on the couch."

Looking down at Murray, meowing up at him from around his feet, he shakes his head. "She doesn't mean it."

"I _do_ mean it. And I know you think witches without black cats are breaking a rule somehow, but one is enough."

"Why not live up to the image if you can?" He shrugs and takes a turn right into the kitchen. "But, sadly, no, there were no more abandoned black cats to adopt. Instead, I found this perfectly healthy human being to bring home." He walks to the kitchen island and steals a cucumber from the top of the salad she's put together.

Bonnie slaps his hand away absently and then looks past him to where Brenna is lingering in the doorway.

Damon whistles, snaps his fingers, and then points to the floor, as if to tell Brenna to catch up.

"Damon," Bonnie chides, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her gaze still on Brenna. "She was at the shop?"

"Came in as I was closing up." He shrugs. "Says she's Lucy's kid."

Bonnie's eyes widen in surprise. "Lucy my _cousin?_ "

"Yup." He steals a tomato and pops it in his mouth.

"She died," Brenna blurts, shifting her feet awkwardly. "My mom. She, um… She was sick."

Bonnie frowns. "I'm sorry. I hadn't seen your mother in a long time."

Brenna steps forward then, eyeing her. "You look pretty young for someone my mom knew forever ago… Like, before I was even _born_ …"

Bonnie glances at Damon, whose brows hike. "Long story, Kid."

"I have time." Brenna tilts her chin stubbornly. "And I wasn't asking _you_."

Rolling his eyes, Damon snorts. "You see the attitude I get? Introduce someone to one of their last relatives and all I get is sass."

"One of?" Brenna tips her head curiously. "There are others? Like, living ones? Because I heard about a vampire in Connecticut…"

Pattering feet can be heard then, before a tiny ball of energy comes racing into the kitchen from the living room. "Daddy!" Sasha throws her arms out and leaps as high as she can.

Damon grins, reaching down to catch her. He lifts her up and settles her on his hip. "Hey, Little Bug." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, her hair bound in two distinct puffs on either side. "How was my favorite daughter's day?" She's his only daughter, actually, but that's beside the point.

Sasha sighs, long and heavy, and then lays her head on his shoulder, staring up at him from eyes that mirror his own. "I did a lot of things."

"Yeah? How many?"

"At least eight," she tells him, very seriously.

" _Eight?_ "

She nods solemnly. "So many."

"The most." He stares down at her from wide eyes. "I bet you were happy when mom picked you up from school."

"I made her a necklace out of macaroni."

"And cheese," Bonnie adds, smiling. "She took it out of her lunch and threaded it in between because, _apparently_ , you can't have macaroni without cheese."

"Uh-huh… That's a valid insight, Bug."

"Thank you." She wiggles around in his arms to get a look at the stranger in the kitchen. "Who's she?"

"Why don't you ask her?" Damon suggests.

Sasha stares at Brenna, her brow puckered. "Are you a witch, too? I'm a witch, but I don't have all my powers yet. Except when I'm really mad or sad or happy and also once, when I got sick, I made the crackers float. Can't have soup without crackers."

"Hard rule?" Damon asks.

She nods sagely and then looks to Brenna again. "It's okay if you're a witch. Mommy and daddy are witches. They're good. But, sometimes daddy has to be bad. He says it's 'cause mommy is _too_ good and he has to make it balance."

"Someone has to Crucio our enemies," Damon agrees fondly.

Bonnie shakes her head. "Sometimes I worry about your influence."

He merely grins at her.

"I'm Brenna," she finally says, taking a step forward. "I guess I'm your cousin, a few times removed."

"I have another cousin?" Sasha perks up and then looks to Damon. She reaches up and cups his face. "Daddy, did you hear?"

"I did. What's that make it now? You've got two werewolves, two humans, and now a witch. Not bad."

"Beth might be a witch, you don't _know_ ," Sasha tells him. "Uncle Stefan says if she was, she might not show her powers 'til real late. Mommy didn't have powers 'til she was old."

"She was seventeen, Bug. She was hardly old."

Sasha scrunches her nose up. "She didn't even make crackers float!"

"Yeah, well, she was a late bloomer. She made up for it later."

"I'm right here," Bonnie says, sounding exasperated. "And I already told you, Sash. I don't think Beth's a witch. When Uncle Stefan and Aunty Caroline adopted her, they did a pretty thorough background check. Her birth mother was as human as they come."

"What about her birth _daddy_?" She wiggles. "Or what if he's like my daddy? He wasn't a witch either."

"Special circumstances."

Sasha pouts, her lower lip jutting out. "I want Beth to be a witch."

"Well, you can still hold out hope for miracles."

Smiling, she nods, and then turns back to Brenna. "You're a witch. I can tell."

"Yeah?" Brenna half-smiles. "How?"

Sasha shrugs. "You feel like momma."

"Well, you're not wrong. I _am_ a witch. Comes with being a Bennett, I guess."

"I'm a Bennett," Sasha tells her proudly. "And a Salvatore."

"Yeah, I see that." Brenna looks to Damon. "When you said you knew her, I didn't think you meant you were married to her."

He shrugs. "I like the element of surprise." To Sasha, he says, "Come on, let's give mommy and Brenna a chance to talk. They've got family business to discuss."

"Is Brenna gonna stay for dinner?" Sasha asks.

Damon glances back at her. "Yeah, if she wants."

"You have to stay for dinner," Sasha tells Brenna.

Brenna's lips quirk. "I'll see what I can do."

Damon looks to Bonnie then, leaning down for a kiss. She meets him in the middle. Leaning back, he searches her eyes to see if she's okay with him leaving and, when she nods, he presses another kiss to her forehead. And then he's carrying Sasha off to the living room, listening to her chatter away about the eight-plus things she'd done that day.

.

.

.

Left alone, Bonnie turns to Brenna and smiles faintly, drumming her fingers against the counter. "I'm not sure what to say… I haven't talked to Lucy in a while. I didn't even know she had a daughter." But, she knows Brenna is a Bennett. She can feel it, just like she did all those years ago, when she met Lucy. More, Brenna doesn't feel dangerous. There's a certain kind of energy that people carry. She always kind of picked up on it, especially around vampires, but it's increased over the years. She doesn't get that feeling from Brenna.

"She mentioned you a few times, but… She said she hadn't seen or heard from you since before I was born."

"How old are you?" Bonnie wonders.

"Seventeen." She shifts her feet and shoves her hands in her pockets. "Sorry for just showing up like this. I would've called, but…"

"But, you didn't have a number. I get it." Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bonnie crosses her arms loosely. "Can I ask why you were looking for me? I mean, I get wanting to be around family, but…"

"But, we don't know each other. Yeah." Brenna nods. "Before my mom died, she was being headhunted by this shady group. They said they needed a Bennett witch and she was the only one they could find. But, mom didn't agree with what they were doing. Long story short, they took me to make her do it and, well, she destroyed them. It wasn't easy... I kind of feel like she might've overdone it, magic-wise, and that's why she died. It wasn't sudden or anything. But, she just got tired after that, run down, and, a year later, she went to sleep and didn't wake up."

Bonnie's heart clenches. Memories of Grams flood her and leave an all too familiar sting. "I'm sorry. That must've been really hard on you."

"It was." She chews her lip. "My mom always said that she wished we had more family. She said she regretted not sticking around to get to know you better. That was how I knew where you grew up. After she died, I don't know, it just felt like something I had to do, so I went to Mystic Falls hoping you might still be there."

"I left a long time ago. A little over twenty years, actually. We spent some time traveling, fighting the good fight, and then we settled down here, almost eight years ago."

"Because of Sasha?"

Bonnie nods. "When we found out I was pregnant, it just seemed like a logical step. But, Mystic Falls comes with its own set of issues. Matt's got it handled, but we didn't exactly want to raise our daughter there. So, we moved out here." She tips her head. "My brother-in-law, best friend, and five-year-old niece live farther down the property. They're on vacation right now, though."

"The five-year-old, that's Beth?"

She smiles. "Yeah."

"And the never-aging thing?" she wonders.

"It really is a long story, but… I'll tell you sometime." Bonnie pushes off the counter then. "Dinner's almost ready. You're staying, right?"

"I'd like to, if that's okay."

"Of course. It'll be nice to have another Bennett around. I mean, obviously Sasha's one, too. But, trust me, she's definitely half her father."

Brenna snorts. "He seems all right."

"He has his moments."

"I couldn't find you anywhere, you know. Everyone I talked to that recognized your name never said a thing. I had to track you down through Damon."

"The Bennett name carries a lot of weight in the magical world. Not always a _good_ weight." She frowns. "I wanted to help people, and I did. But, there are other people that would use us up and spit us out. I wasn't willing to be anybody's magical tool. So, the people I'm close to keep my whereabouts quiet." She stares at Brenna then. "As a Bennett, you're going to see that a lot. We have a legacy to live up to and it can be hard. It weighs on you. But, you have to be your own person first."

"Is that what you did?"

"I had to. I went through some things, struggled with my self-worth, and found myself the ultimate sacrificial lamb."

"What changed?"

"A lot, actually. My friends stood up for me, my now-husband risked everything to bring me back from the brink, and… I learned to love myself. I decided I wanted to live and I wasn't going to let anything get in the way."

Nodding, Brenna chews on her lip. "Without my mom, I… I don't really know what I'm doing. I mean, magic-wise. I have her grimoire and she tried to teach me things, long before my powers manifested, but, by the time they sparked, she was already sick."

"So, you want my help?"

Brenna stares at her. "I don't want to feel like I'm the only one left and I guess I thought if anyone should teach me how to use my magic, it should be another Bennett."

Bonnie nods slowly. "Okay. I can do that."

"Really?"

"It'll take time and a lot of work, but… Yeah. I'll help, whatever way I can."

Brenna grins then, wide and hopeful. "That'd be great. I— I can get a job and find a place in town. And I can do my schooling online."

"We can iron out the details later," Bonnie tells her. "For now, let's just have dinner and catch up. You can stay here tonight. We have a guest room. I'll make it up for you."

"Oh, you don't have to…"

"Brenna… Seriously, you came all this way. It's fine."

Brenna's eyes sparked with a sudden shine. "Thanks," she said, but it was strangled.

Bonnie was reminded of when she was 17 and her Grams died. When her mother was turned. When she lost her dad. Eventually, it started to feel like none of her family was safe. Like she was bound to be alone, no matter what she did. Her heart went out to Brenna. That was no way to live, and it was a recipe for low self-worth and depression. She didn't want to see Brenna follow in her same footsteps. In fact, she vowed that she wouldn't let that happen.

…

"What do you mean she's _there?_ "

"I mean, she's in the kitchen talking to Bonnie." Damon sits back in his favorite armchair, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. Sasha is sitting in his lap, a book open and propped against her upturned knees. "She showed up at the shop, said she was a Bennett."

"And you believe her?"

"She's certainly got the stubborn thing down pat. Anyway, Bonnie gets a feeling when someone is 'family.' If she's giving Brenna the time of day, I can only assume she does. Besides, the rugrat seems to like her."

"Right, because the logical decision here is to base things off whether your seven-year-old likes them," Stefan mutters.

"She's got her father's instincts."

Stefan sighs, and Damon imagines him pacing, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Damon, this girl has been chasing Bonnie all over the States. She's tracking down our oldest and closest friends. You don't think that's suspect?"

"Her mom was Lucy. Apparently, she died."

"Daddy…" Sasha reaches back and pulls at the collar of his shirt. "Is Brenna an orphan? Are we gonna adopt her?"

"You always ask the hard-hitting questions, Sash. I blame your Aunt Caroline for that. Listen, I'll let you know when I know, okay?"

She smiles at him brightly, and he can already see the cogs moving in her head. She's been vocal about wanting a sibling, but she was thinking of someone younger, not older. He and Bonnie have been discussing it, but they're not sure. They've got the shop and Liv has been asking them to take up teaching positions at her school. A change of pace might be nice. Adding anther kid to that would make things a little stressful, so they're considering waiting until they're sure what they want to do and are settled. Sasha snuck up on them last time. They'd been traveling around, helping out where they could, when Bonnie realized she was pregnant. Damon was happy to lay down the proverbial wand for a while. Although, child birth was no picnic, and he means that seriously. He could feel every wave of pain Bonnie went through. If they did end up having another kid, he was the one who was going to take the epidural.

"Do you want us to come back? We can catch a red-eye in," Stefan suggests.

"Nope. Stay where you are. If something goes wrong, I'll handle it. She's just a teenager, Stef. She set herself on fire earlier trying to show off. Trust me, she's not a threat."

Stefan grunts disagreeably. "Fine. But, if anything goes wrong…"

"You'll get to say 'I told you so.'" He grins down at Sasha, who smiles back at him and sticks her tongue through a hole where one of her front teeth is missing. "You wanna talk to Uncle Stefan, Bug?"

"Yeah!" She takes his phone from his hand and presses it to her ear. "Hi Uncle Stefan. How are you? I'm very good," she says cheerfully, and without any pauses for him to respond. "Is Beth there? Can I talk to her, please?"

Damon snorts. "Short-lived conversation."

.

.

.

Brenna feels awkward at dinner. She doesn't mean to stare, but she knows she is. She feels like she walked into a feel-good family moment she might've seen on retro TV. They all just seem so… _normal_ and happy. It wasn't that Brenna's life was unhappy, it was just different. It'd always been just her and her mom, making it work in their tiny apartment with the wonky heater, non-existent air conditioner, and a few too many 'Overdue' bills in the mailbox. In comparison, Bonnie had a loving husband, an adorable daughter, a veritable mansion, a sprawling acreage, and a flawlessly young looking face. Brenna can admit to feeling a little bitter about the facts.

Still, she joins them at the dining room table, shifting awkwardly in her seat, picking at the napkin laid out in her lap. There's a roast in the middle of the table; Bonnie's sliced it up and served it out on each of their plates. Damon is cutting up Sasha's food for her while the seven-year-old happily tells them every detail of her day. It's peppered with random questions that she tosses in Brenna's direction.

"Me and Katie went on the monkey bars and she said she could hang upside down longer, but I did, so she had to give me her cookies 'cause I won." She turns to Brenna and says, "What grade are you in?"

"I'm a senior, technically. But, I started doing school online last year, when my mom got sick." She shrugs and pushes her peas around on her plate. "I was ahead when she died, but it's been a few months, so I'm probably behind now."

"Do you like school? I like school mostly 'cause I get to hang out with my friends. Like Katie. I didn't like her cookies, though; they tasted funny." Sasha scrunches up her nose and shows her dad. When he does the same back to her, she giggles. Returning her attention to Brenna, she wonders, "Who's your best friend? Mine is Beth, but Katie is my best friend at school."

"Uh…" Brenna looks from Sasha to Bonnie and back. "I was really close to my mom. And there was a girl that lived across the hall. _Dana_. She was really nice."

"Mommy's best friend is daddy, and also Aunt Caroline and Uncle Matt. Uncle Tyler says he's mommy's best werewolf though and that makes him even more special."

"Uncle Tyler is a liar," Damon says.

Bonnie snorts and rolls her eyes. " _Damon_."

"Do you know who daddy's favorite werewolf is?" he asks Sasha.

She sits up taller in her chair. "Cousin Mason 'cause he bit that vampire that scared mommy so bad she went into labor." She twirls her fork around. "But, it's okay, 'cause I was ready to be here."

"That's right. The best kind of werewolf is one that pulls its weight."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Tyler's saved your life on no less than six occasions."

"And I've saved his on at _least_ eight. He needs to catch up."

"Uh-huh." She points her fork at the salad bowl. "Don't forget to eat your vegetables."

Damon sighs, long and loud, but dishes himself out some salad before he passes it in Brenna's direction. "So, Baby-Bennett, where were you before you hit the road in search of what you thought was your last living family member?"

She uses the tongs to fill her salad bowl and then leans back against her chair. "Chicago. My mom and me had an apartment there. Wasn't much, but it worked for us." She shrugs. "Anyway, I wasn't allowed to stay there after she died… I might've run out before DCFS could ask too many questions."

"Where's your dad?"

"Damon," Bonnie says, widening her eyes at him in a way that clearly suggests he needs to be more empathetic.

Damon stares back at her, his brows hiked.

Brenna gets the idea that they have a lot of silent conversations through facial expressions alone. Clearing her throat, she tells them, "He took off when I was little. Mom doesn't really talk about him."

"I'm getting déjà vu, Bon…"

Brenna looks from him to Bonnie questioningly.

"My mom left when I was little," Bonnie explains. "She had her reasons, but—"

"But, they sucked." Damon spears his fork through a tomato in his salad and swings it around. "So, you've just been thumbing your way around the country? Little dangerous, don't you think?"

"Daddy, what's 'thumbing'?" Sasha wonders before tearing a bite off a buttered roll with her teeth.

"Hitchiking, baby. Something you and Brenna should never do."

"Is it bad?"

"It's dangerous, because you're relying on people you don't _know_ not to hurt you." Damon stares at Brenna, his eyes wide with emphasis.

It doesn't feel like a threat, even though it could very easily be one. Instead, it almost feels like… _concern_. Not for her, she doesn't think. They hardly know her, so they can't be _that_ worried. But, maybe for this wife. For losing a family member. Brenna chooses not to put much stock in it. Still, she defends her actions. "I didn't hitchhike the whole time. I had a car in the beginning, but it kicked the bucket halfway to Mystic Falls—"

"That's where Uncle Matt and Aunty Dani and Cousin Tori live!" Sasha informs her.

"Yeah? I think I met your uncle. He was the Sheriff down there."

"Yeah, that's him!" Sasha nods excitedly. "He hunts bad people and makes the town safe. Sometimes mommy and daddy help. Tori's gonna be just like him. She's gonna hunt and she's a cheerleader."

"Yeah, she's a regular Buffy in the making," Damon says.

Both Sasha and Brenna stare at him, confused.

"Culture today," he scoffs.

Bonnie rolls her eyes fondly. "All right, Old Man. Try not to take it personally. They weren't around for the Civil War either."

"Har, har." He turns to Sasha then. "Cousin Brenna here met all your favorite people. Aunt Elena, your cousins, Mason and Josh."

"I met Jeremy, too."

Damon pauses then before slowly turning to look at her. "Jeremy Gilbert?"

"I ran into some trouble in Kansas. He kind of saved my life." She shrugs. "I caught a ride with him about halfway through New Mexico."

"Huh. Wasn't sure Little Gilbert was still alive."

Bonnie shakes her head at him. "How was he?" she asks Brenna. "We haven't seen him in… a long time."

Damon snorts. "He took Bonnie dating a former vampire kind of personally."

"Former?" Brenna stares at him, her brow furrowed. "You can't _stop_ being a vampire."

"You'd be surprised." He grins at her. "But, seriously, how was he? Was he mopey? Still pining for Bon-Bon?"

Bonnie scoffs. "It's been twenty-five years, I'm sure he's over it."

"Ignore her, she has no idea the affect she has on people." Damon waves a dismissive hand. "So, spill the sad truth, Bren."

"He was okay, I guess. Seemed kind of bitter about life in general, but…" She chews her lip then and turns to Bonnie. "He said if I found you that I should pass along a message."

"Of _course_ he did," Damon mutters.

Bonnie smiles gently. "What'd he say?"

"Just that he hopes you're happy. That you _deserved_ to be happy." Taking a look around at the people at the table, Brenna nods. "I guess you are."

Bonnie's expression softens. "I am."

"Who's Jeremy?" Sasha wonders.

"An old friend," Bonnie tells her. "From a lifetime ago."

"Oh." Sasha reaches across the table to pat her mom's hand. "Do you miss your friend?"

Tipping her head, Bonnie grins down at her daughter lovingly. "I just hope he's happy, too."

"Okay." Sitting back down, she scoops up a bite of mashed potatoes and hums to herself as she eats them.

"Brady Bunch vibes?" Damon wonders, staring at Brenna knowingly.

Re-runs on TV give her a vague idea of what he means. She shrugs and admits, "Kind of."

"Don't worry. We're on our best behaviour. We're just as weird as any other family."

Brenna snorts. "I'll take your word for it."

Damon winks, mouth kicked up at the corner. It's friendly and lighthearted and, for the first time since she started this bizarre journey, she thinks she might be safe. Really and truly safe.

.

.

.

Bonnie shows Brenna the guest room, where they make the bed together. "This is all you brought with you?" She nods her chin toward the ragged bag Brenna's been carrying around with her.

"Yeah. It's not much. Just some clothes, my laptop, and…" She pauses and reaches for it, digging out the old yearbook to show Bonnie. "This is how I tracked you down. After the Sheriff shut me down, I broke into the library and went through the town records… There's not a whole lot in there about you, so—"

"So, you tracked down my friends from high school." Bonnie takes the yearbook from her, smoothing a hand over the top, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "This was forever ago…"

"I guess I lucked out that you're still friends with them." Brenna sits down next to her, rubbing her hands over the holes in the knees of her jeans.

"Yeah, well… I didn't always think I would be…"

"No?"

Bonnie shakes her head. Opening the yearbook, she thumbs through it, stopping on a few different pages to gaze at the familiar faces staring back at her. "I became a witch when I was the same age as you. It all happened really suddenly for me. One minute I was just your average teenager. I was a cheerleader and I had my little group of friends. I was looking forward to prom and graduation and college… Maybe traveling, too." She smiles to herself before shaking her head. "And then these two vampires moved to town. _Brothers_. And one of my best friends fell in love with one of them. And then my Grams, she was telling me that I come from this long line of witches and I needed to be prepared. Honestly, I thought it was a mix of alcohol and dementia or something. But, she was just as sharp as ever."

"So, what happened?"

She laughs. "What _didn't_ happen? It was just this never-ending fight against doppelgangers, werewolves, vampires, _original_ vampires, hybrids, _each other_ , death, siphons, _ourselves_ … Honestly, it was four of the most complicated years of my life. And near the end, I… I was lost and my self-esteem was in the toilet and I'd become this magical tool to wave away all the bad. You know? People come to you when you're a witch; they expect you to always come through in the clutch. And when you care about them, you start to think that you should, no matter what it costs you. But, that kind of thinking is devastating and self-sacrificing, and it can only lead to one thing. Your own demise."

"How do you change it?"

"You learn to value yourself. You stop putting other people before you… And the people that really love you, the ones you want to hold on to, they'll understand."

Brenna stares up at her and then blurs out, "I think my mom died because of me."

"If she did die because she overused her magic, then I think, if you asked her, she'd tell you it was worth it to save your life. The difference between my situation and yours was that Lucy was your mom. As much as I love myself now, as much as I _fight_ for my independence and my life. If someone ever made me choose between myself and Sasha, I'd fight with everything I had in me and die a _thousand_ times if that's what it took. Because she's my little girl, just like you were Lucy's." Reaching for her hand, Bonnie takes it between two of hers. "Do you think your mom loved you, Brenna?"

She nods, blinking quickly against a sheen of tears. "I know she did."

"What do you think she'd want for you?"

"I think…" She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, shakily. "She'd want me to be happy… To have a good life… To be a good witch and a strong person."

"Okay." Bonnie nods. "Why'd you go looking for me?"

"Because… I was alone. The only other Bennett my mom knew about was you. I thought if I could find you, I wouldn't be alone anymore." She looks around and shakes her head. "I didn't really think it through, you know? That you'd have a family and a life. I just thought… You'd be like me. The only one left. Alone and just trying to get by in the world. Because that's what we were always doing. My mom and me. She'd take these jobs sometimes, to make extra money. When people need serious magic, they want a Bennett. It kept the lights on and food in the fridge, but… It didn't feel right. It was like she was trading bits and pieces of herself away to help other people. When I asked her how to be a witch, what kind of witch I should be, all she'd say was 'be yourself, Bren, be your own witch.' But, what does that _mean?_ "

Bonnie nods. "It means you get to spend some time figuring it out. There are a lot of different kinds of witches. We've all got our own agendas and our own ideas of how to use magic. Some of us serve the Balance, others serve themselves. You figure out where you want to be and you build yourself a life there."

"Is that what you did?"

"I was ready to sacrifice myself for my friends and the world. I threw myself on the pyre and tapped out. And then my friends stepped in and pulled me back. They showed me there was another way. That they could love and support me as much as I loved and supported them. So, they did." She pauses a moment, before saying, "Damon was a vampire. He was one of the first people to turn my life upside down, and not in a good way. We _hated_ each other then. We just couldn't see eye to eye. What we wanted and who we cared about and what lengths we were willing to go to, it all clashed. And then something changed. We grew up and we found common ground. We died together, resurrected, and fell in love. And when it was time for me to let go, he gave up a part of himself to save my life."

"He stopped being a vampire."

"It's complicated, but, yeah." She nods. "We've all got our own journey to figuring out what we want and who we want to be. Yours is just starting, but… You don't have to do it alone. When I was seventeen, I lost my Grams, and my dad not long after. I found my mom and then lost her, too. More than anything, I lost myself. I had no one to turn to or lean on and it made me vulnerable. It made things so much harder than they needed to be. Look, Brenna… You're a Bennett. And I will be here in any way I can so you don't have to go through what I did."

Brenna stares down at their bound hands a long moment and then nods. "Thanks."

Letting her go, Bonnie stands. "Bathroom is across the hall. There's lots of towels, so feel free to shower. I think there's a fresh toothbrush in one of the drawers. I also left some clothes out for you, just in case. We can wash what you brought with you in the morning. On Sundays, we have a family breakfast, so we'll be up pretty early. I usually do yoga in the morning; it helps me center myself. You're welcome to join."

"Okay."

"Have a good sleep." Bonnie smiles. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

Brenna nods. "I'd like that."

Turning on her heel, Bonnie leaves, padding downstairs to find Damon in the family room. He's sitting in an armchair, his legs stretched out on an ottoman, absently flicking through a book. Bonnie climbs into his lap, her knees sinking down on either side of him. He puts the book aside and wraps his arms around her. "Hey."

She hums and rests herself flat against his chest. "Today's weird, right?"

"Little bit, yeah." He rubs his hands up her back and over her shoulders. "You feel good about this?"

"She's just a kid."

"So were you when you took on an original hybrid."

She snorts. "True. But, I think her life experience might be a little different from my own."

"Here's hoping." He leans down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. "Are we adopting a teenager?"

Bonnie sighs. "I don't know. It's too soon to tell, right?"

He shrugs. "I'm the impulsive one in this relationship, so you already know what I'm going to say."

"Do I?'

"She's your family, Bonnie. Probably the only one left. And she's had a pretty hard life, which means you're already feeling bad for her. Probably mentally painting her room and teaching her the ways of your juju."

"Oh, _I'm_ mentally planning? Like you aren't already dadding her. Bringing her home like a lost puppy and telling her she shouldn't hitchhike or trust strangers..."

"She's a _Bennett_. I'm predisposed to caring about Bennetts."

Bonnie laughs and tips her head up to see him better. "You're such a dork."

His brows hike. "I _know_."

Sighing, she says, "Liv and Luke would take her."

"You wanna send her to Temecula?" Damon frowns. "I've got nothing against what they're doing. That school helps out a lot of kids. But, most of those kids were kicked out or abandoned."

" _Technically_ , Brenna's alone. Her mom's gone, she doesn't know where her dad is—"

"But, she's got us." Damon stares at her. "If Brenna wants to go to school there, great. It'll help her get a handle on her wonky little fire spells. As much as her magic matters right now, I think what she really needs is family. And you're it, Bon."

" _We're_ it. If we take her in, she lives here, with us. With you and Sasha." She pushes up to sit in his lap properly, putting a little space between them so she can talk seriously. "I like Brenna and I want to help her, but I don't want to put you or Sasha at risk."

"Did I mention she set _herself_ on fire when she tried to attack me earlier? She's a _kid_. If I wanted to, I could take her out in my _sleep_. Hell, Sasha probably could, too. What's this really about?"

Bonnie drops her head back and lets out a sigh. "What if I can't help her?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she lost her family, Damon. When I lost my family, I was a mess. I didn't pull myself together. I just kept falling apart. How am I supposed to help her through this?"

"You're not seventeen anymore. But, what you learned back then can help her." He settles his hands on her hips and squeezes gently. "Hey, I know first hand that you're a kickass witch and an amazing mom. Whatever Brenna needs from you, I'm sure you can do it. But, if you don't, if you think she'd be better off with Liv and Luke, I'll support you. We can visit her on holidays, build up a relationship with her that way. Whatever you wanna do, I'm with you."

Bonnie's heart thumps in her chest. "I know," she says softly. Leaning in again, she settles her hands on his chest. "I'll sleep on it, okay?"

"Okay." He kisses her forehead one last time and then pats her butt. "Come on. I need a shower before we go to bed."

Groaning faintly, she pushes up off of him. He takes her hand as he stands and draws her along with him as he climbs the stairs and walks them down the hall, passing through their bedroom to the en suite bathroom.

They undress each other more than themselves. With Damon kissing down her neck and pressing up against her back, she already knows this shower isn't going to be quick or particularly focused on getting clean. She's not opposed to it. It's been a long day and she could do with a little personal time. With a seven-year-old running around, they take whatever time they get.

So, when they step into the shower and her back meets icy cold tile, she welcomes him happily. She wraps her arms around his neck as he reaches down, hooks his hands under her thighs, and lifts her up. Legs wrapped around his waist, she runs her fingers through his wet hair and rubs her nose against his, their lips dragging together.

For a little while at least, the world fades away, until there is only them.

.

.

.

After their shower, Bonnie trades her towel in for a nightgown and they make their way into their bedroom. Damon's arm is around her waist, his body pressed to her back, teeth scraping over the nape of her neck, only to find a familiar lump lying in the middle of the bed, covered by the blanket. They exchange a look as they separate and walk to either side of the bed. Dragging the blanket and sheet back, Sasha is revealed in her bright purple pajamas, Miss Cuddles pillowed under her head. She's fake snoring, loudly and dramatically.

Damon laughs and lays down next to her, scooping her up into his arms and dropping her on his chest. "What's this strange little thing doing in our bed?"

"I don't know." Bonnie checks that her hair is securely wrapped before she lays down on her side of the bed. "I've never seen it before."

Sasha giggles. "Yes, you have. I'm Sasha!" She sits up on her dad's stomach and makes a face at her mom. "I'm yours. I came from your belly and now I live here. But, daddy says I don't have to pay rent 'cause my face is too cute."

"Oh, is that what he says?" Bonnie smothers a grin.

"Yup!" She nods. "Daddy, tell mommy that I'm hers and I get to sleep in your bed tonight."

"Would if I could, Little Bug. But, you know her, she's a tough nut to crack."

"Nuh-uh." She rolls herself off her dad and crawls to her mom, stretching her little arms over Bonnie's body and resting her head against Bonnie's chest. "Momma?" she whispers.

Bonnie runs her fingers over Sasha's hair and mimics her tone, "What?"

"I need to sleep here."

"Yeah. Why's that?"

"Daddy's scared of monsters. I have to keep him safe."

Bonnie grins. "You know, I've always thought he was. And he definitely needs a protector."

"Can I do it?"

"You can most _definitely_ protect him." Bonnie nods. "You _and_ Miss Cuddles."

Nodding solemnly, Sasha reaches her leg over and pushes her tiny foot against Damon's ribs. "Daddy, I'm gonna keep you safe from the monsters, okay? Me and Miss Cuddles will fight them for you."

"All of them? Sounds like a big job, Bug." He hooks a hand around her ankle and lifts it like he might eat her tiny foot.

She giggles. "Momma's gonna help."

"Well, in that case, I feel safer already."

"I better stay though, okay?" She moves to lay between them and stretches her legs out as far as they'll go.

"If you think that's best." Bonnie reaches down and pulls her side of the blanket up until it reaches Sasha's chin.

Damon does the same; his free hand turning the lamp out beside him. He rolls onto his side then, an arm tucked under his head.

Bonnie turns over too, reaching an arm out toward him. Their hands meet across Sasha's belly, fingers knitting together.

.

.

.

At 8 am the next morning, Brenna wanders into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, to find Damon and Sasha making pancakes. They're singing along, loud and off-key, to seriously old music.

 _"Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, what a mighty good man…"_

Damon is dancing —if that even applies to whatever he's doing with his body— and singing into the spatula like a mic. _"I want to take a minute or two, and give much respect due to the man that's made a difference in my world…_ "

"Brenna!" Sasha suddenly squeals, turning from where she's sitting on the island counter to see Brenna walking toward them. "Daddy's making his world-famous pancakes."

"Yeah?" She half-smiles. "Smells pretty good."

Damon nods his head toward the sliding glass door leading out onto the porch. "Bonnie's out back, communing with nature."

Feeling a little more awake, Brenna chews on her lip as she nods. "Okay." She makes her way over to the door, glancing back once to see Damon throw a blueberry in the air, where it lands right in Sasha's open mouth, making her giggle and clap. Leaving the glass door open, Brenna crosses the large wood deck, hopping down to the grass below.

The grass is damp with dew and a startlingly lush green. The treeline is at Bonnie's back, but to her far right is a wall of flower bushes, overflowing with huge, blooming roses. Bonnie's standing in the center of her yoga matt, her hands pressed together in a prayer position.

"I'm not interrupting the zen, am I?" Brenna wonders.

A smile breaks across Bonnie's mouth. "No, not at all." Dropping her hands to the side, she gives her upper body a shake, loosening up. "It's just another way to connect with my magic."

"How?"

"You talk to it. Talk to nature and your ancestors. You reach out to everything around you and try to feel the core of it."

"The core?"

"Magic lives in everything. The grass, the trees, the air… The better connection you have with all of it, the more respect you show it, the stronger you are."

Brenna looks around the yard, abundant with life. "So, it talks back?"

"In its own way, sure."

Padding feet can be heard then, before Sasha comes racing toward them. She doesn't stop until she reaches Bonnie's legs, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head against Bonnie's hip. "Breakfast," she tells her.

"Already?"

Sasha nods.

"Okay." Bonnie rubs a hand over Sasha's back and then steps off her yoga mat to start rolling it up.

Brenna makes her way over to the rose bushes. She stares down at them, her brow furrowed, and wonders how she's supposed to talk to nature.

Sasha walks over with her. "You have to be gentle," she tells Brenna, before reaching a hand out to a closed bud and cupping her hand around it. When she draws her hand back, the flower is unfolding, petal by petal, to show a vibrant red rose. "We're all flowers, so we gotta be gentle with each other and ourselves. That's our family motto."

"Really?"

Sasha beams up at her. "Yeah." She reaches over and takes Brenna's hand then. "What kind of flower are you?"

Brenna swallows tightly. "I don't know."

"That's okay. We can find out."

She nods. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

.

.

.

They eat breakfast out on the deck, taking in the cool morning air, fresh with the smell of flowers. There's a plate stacked high with pancakes, a large bowl of blueberries and strawberries, a can of whipped cream, a plate of bacon, a jug of orange juice and a carafe of coffee spread out.

Brenna watches Damon hand a plate to Bonnie with a smiling fang-face on her pancakes. Bonnie rolls her eyes but her mouth is upturned in a smile. On the side of the table, Sasha has made a circle of blueberries around her pancake and filled it with whipped cream.

"You want any pancake with that whipped cream, Bug?" Damon asks.

She merely grins at him and drops a strawberry in the very center. " _Perfect!_ "

Brenna cuts off a bite of her pancake and pops it in her mouth, humming appreciatively in surprise. "These are awesome."

"They should be. He's spent twenty-five years perfecting his recipe," Bonnie tells her. "Trust me, I was there for the first batch and it wasn't pretty."

"Genius takes time," Damon points out.

Brenna shrugs and cuts off another bite. "I don't know about that, but these are the best pancakes I've ever had."

" _See?_ "

Before Bonnie can respond, there's a sudden storm of voices can coming from the front.

Brenna tenses, and then feels a wave of power surround her, making the hairs on her arm stand and everything on the table rattle. She looks at Bonnie and Damon, who've both tensed, and realizes it's _their_ magic, anticipating an oncoming threat. She's never felt anything like it. Her mother was strong; she'd always known that. But, this is different. Strangely, despite how strong their power suddenly feels, how it seems to wrap itself around, she's not scared. In fact, she feels safe.

.

.

.

Bonnie's first thought is to grab Sasha and move her out of the line of fire. She's not sure who's coming or why, but she's not willing to leave her daughter in the line of fire. She looks to Brenna, too. She's only seventeen and she barely knows magic. Mentally, she starts going over where she can put Brenna and Sasha that will keep them both safe. But then, all her panic and concern flees her abruptly.

A familiar gang of faces, packing all too many weapons, is circling around the house, crossing through the backyard.

Damon blinks in surprise. "What the hell?"

"Jesus…" Matt races ahead and up the porch stairs, coming to a stop next to Bonnie. He reaches a hand out and rests it on her shoulder. "We got here as quick as we could. We weren't sure what we'd find..."

"Not enough pancakes, that's for sure." Damon looks from him to those trailing behind: Elena, Tyler, Liv, Mason, and Josh. "Did you guys drive here overnight?"

"That's what happens when you send out an SOS text. And some of us took a _plane_ , thank you very much." Tyler scowls and then motions down the table to a wide-eyed Brenna. "Is that her?"

"SOS text?" Bonnie asks, shaking her head in confusion. She's still feeling a little overwhelmed by the there-and-gone threat.

Damon winces. "Yeah, I forgot I sent that. In my defense, when she first showed up, I thought she might be a threat. So, I called in the cavalry… And then I forgot to call them _off_."

"So, she _isn't_ a threat?" Liv wonders, raising her stake gun up to rest it against her shoulder casually. "Are those blueberries?"

"Fresh from the garden," Bonnie tells her, before turning to Damon. "I can't believe you called them all in."

He shrugs. "There was a strange girl stalking our friends. Of course I called them in."

"You said you weren't worried!"

"I _always_ say I'm not worried." He rolls his eyes. "It's a defense mechanism."

"And not calling them back when you realized she _wasn't_ a threat?"

"She caught me off guard with the 'Bennett' thing. I forgot I sent the text at all." He pops a stray strawberry in his mouth. "On the bright side, their reaction time was pretty good considering how far away some of them were. All we're missing is—"

" _Bonnie!_ "

They whole groups turns as a panicked Caroline comes rushing across the backyard, flushed and flustered. Stefan is just behind her.

"Caroline?" Bonnie stands from the table. "What are you doing here?"

"We caught a flight in."

"From _Florence?_ "

"Stefan talked to Damon last night. He said not to come back, but…" Caroline gathers Bonnie up in a hug, squeezing her tight, and then looks down the table to the only unfamiliar face there. "Is this her?"

"Yes. And she's not a threat." Bonnie holds her hands up to stem any hostility. "Guys, this is Lucy's daughter, Brenna Bennett. She's family."

Awkwardly, Brenna raises a hand to wave at them.

"Wait, you're a Bennett?" Matt frowns "Why didn't you just say so?"

"Uh, I didn't _know_ any of you…" Brenna shrugs.

"Valid reason," Elena admits, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans and rocking back on her heels. "Sorry for, uh, vamping out on you… I thought you might be dangerous. I was just trying to scare you off."

"I didn't take it personally." Brenna looks around at the group curiously. "So, this is everyone, right? I recognize most of them from your yearbook."

"Really?" Damon snorts. "Some of them aged _terribly_."

Bonnie swats at him. "Be nice."

"Fine." He stands from the table. "I'll make more pancakes while you guys catch up."

"I'll help," Stefan offers, following him inside.

Sasha stands on her chair and bounces a little. She reaches for Tyler, who's standing closest to her, and pulls on the sleeve of his jacket. "Are you staying?"

He grins at her and hooks an arm around her waist, lifting her so she can sit in the crook of his elbow. "I'm sure we can stay a day or two."

"Mommy, Uncle Tyler is staying! Which means Aunty Liv is, too." She peeks over Tyler's shoulder to her cousins and smiles at them, wiggling her fingers in a wave.

Josh smiles back and reaches a hand out to bop her nose. "We can stay 'til tonight but, since it's not life threatening, we should probably head back. We've got school, too, Sash."

She pouts, but then turns her hopeful gaze toward Elena.

"One night won't hurt," Elena agreese, reaching a hand out for Sasha to give her a high-five.

Content, Sasha turns herself around and then kicks a leg out, catching Matt's elbow with her foot. "Where's Tori?"

"Back home. She couldn't come out." At her disappointed sigh, he smiles reassuringly. "But, her birthday's coming up, so you'll see her soon."

"Cross your heart?"

He waves his fingers over his heart in an X. "I promise."

To Josh, who's wandered closer to the table to steal a bite of her pancakes, Brenna wonders, "How'd you get here so fast?"

"Took a plane." He shrugs. "It's protocol to head out as soon as the SOS text comes in."

"You guys just load up and come in from wherever you are?" Brenna looks around at all of them. "Just like that?"

Matt shrugs. "We thought Bonnie was in trouble. That's pretty much the only reason Damon texts."

"He texts me pictures of dogs that he says look like me." Tyler rolls his eyes. "One was a cat, but it looked like it had sideburns, so he said it still counted."

Sasha giggles and then reaches a hand up to touch Tyler's sideburns. He fake-growls at her, but it only makes her laugh harder.

"He has a strange way of showing his love." Bonnie shrugs. "Guys, I'm sorry you came all the way out here on a false alarm."

"It's fine," Liv says. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm glad we're in time for breakfast," Mason adds, circling the table to steal Damon's chair. He cuts himself off a bite of Damon's pancakes and pops it in his mouth.

After that, everybody starts dragging chairs up to the table, scooping up handfuls of blueberries, strawberries and bacon. Josh pops into the kitchen and returns with more plates, cutlery, and cups.

.

.

.

"I swear I remember telling you and Carebear not to come back… That was a thing, right? You might be the only person I talked to post-SOS text…" Damon's eyes narrow thoughtfully as he whisks a new batch of pancake mix.

Stefan shrugs, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. "Caroline was worried. We caught a flight out right after."

"Where's Beth?"

"Asleep in the car. I should go get her, actually. We just didn't want her too close to the house until we were sure what we were dealing with. It was a long flight, though. She crashed." He backs up toward the doorway, but pauses. "This Brenna, she's been okay?"

"Just a lost kid like I told you. We're either going to adopt her or send her off to school with Liv and Luke. Haven't decided yet." He shrugs. "You might have to double up on uncle duties."

Stefan rolls his eyes. "I just want to be sure you know what you're doing."

"I am." He starts pouring out a pancake in the hot pan. "She reminds me of Bonnie. Maybe we can do a better job of keeping this one from self-destructing."

"Can't hurt to try." Stefan nods before leaving, en route to collect his daughter.

Damon focuses back on the pancakes before casting his gaze out toward the deck, where his closest friends are all collected around his family. They'd hopped on planes or into their cars and come rushing out as soon as they could, all in an attempt to keep Bonnie safe. Not for the first time, he appreciated that he kept this strange collection of people close. He also digs his phone out and sends Tyler a picture of a soaking wet Chihuahua gritting its teeth in a strange looking smile.

Tyler texts him back a series of emojis that range from a glaring face to a knife.

It just makes Damon laugh.

.

.

.

A slightly overwhelmed Brenna leaves the collection of loud people currently filling the deck to join Bonnie, who's washing dishes and tidying up the kitchen.

"Too loud?" Bonnie asks.

"Kind of… Did you need some help?"

"Sure. You can dry." She passes Brenna a dish towel and then a dripping, freshly washed plate. "I get it, you know. How overwhelming it can be. Years ago, I was stuck in a prison world for, well, _months_. It was so quiet there that I desperately missed noise. But, when I got back, everything was so _loud_. It creeps up on me sometimes, even now. I love them and I'm happy they're all here, but sometimes I just need a break."

"You're lucky." Brenna stacks the plates off to the side. "They just dropped everything and came running."

"That's what you do for family." Bonnie pauses then, her hands deep in the dish water. She turns at the waist to look at Brenna. "Damon and I talked and… If you want to stay here, you can. I can help you find a school nearby. We can practice your magic together. I'll teach you everything I know and… We can be your _family_ , Brenna. But, if you don't want that or you don't think you're ready or maybe it's just too overwhelming, then… Liv and Luke run a school in California for witches that were abandoned by their families or their covens. So, if you want it, there's a room there for you. It's a great school with amazing people and teachers. They'll help you learn magic in a safe, supportive environment and give you everything you'll need to succeed in the world."

"Everything?"

"Liv and Luke have done wonderful things. They've given kids a new home and a family and taught them the best parts of magic. They've shaped strong, good people into amazing witches and warlocks. I really think you'd be happy there."

Brenna nods. "And here?"

Bonnie turns to look at her. "I want what's best for you, Brenna. It's not up to me."

Chewing her lip, Brenna drops her gaze to the plate in her hand, drying it off absently. She can hear the people on the deck, their voices and laughter all mixing together. She doesn't hate the idea of the school. What she saw on the website was interesting. But, she can't help but wonder what happens if she goes. Does she video chat with Bonnie every once in a while? Maybe exchange letters or Christmas cards? Post-graduation, does she just head off to college, start her life, and think back vaguely on the only two members of her family that are still alive? Ever since her mom died, her only mission has been to find Bonnie, and she thought when she left Chicago that it was just to prove to herself that she's not alone. That there was at least one other Bennett out there, still making her way through the world, whatever that might take. But, since she's found Bonnie, all she's felt is this unfamiliar yearning for something she hasn't had since her mom got sick.

A family.

Maybe they don't make it work in the long run. Maybe their personalities are too different or they want different things or a few months pass and they decide they don't want this interloper invading their life; she's not sure. But, she looks at Bonnie and Damon and little Sasha and she wonders what it would be like to be a part of that. To have people like those collected on the deck come running to help save one life. Brenna loved her mother with every fiber of her being, and she misses the life they used to have. But, it's different now. Life is different now. And for once, she's wondering if maybe it could be great. Not better, not exactly. Just a different kind of good.

"Sasha said something before breakfast, about a family motto. She said you have to be gentle with yourself and everyone else. She also asked me what flower I am and…" She shakes her head. "I don't know. But, I'd like to find out." She looks at Bonnie then. "Can you help me?"

Bonnie stares back at her and then smiles slowly. "Yeah. I think I can."

Nodding, Brenna smiles, too. "Okay."

.

.

.

Later, Brenna and Bonnie rejoin everyone on the deck. Brenna finds a seat next to Josh while Bonnie pulls a chair up next to Damon. Sasha and Beth are playing in the grass, chasing butterflies. Tyler and Matt are exchanging 'war' stories. Liv and Mason are talking about music. And Stefan and Caroline are pressed up close together, arms wrapped around each other, talking in hushed voices.

Damon's arm winds around Bonnie and pulls her closer. "How'd things go with the kid?"

"I think she's going to stay." She tips her head back on his shoulder and presses a brief kiss to his chin. "Thank you."

His hand finds her shoulder and squeezes gently. "What for?"

"Everything." She rubs a hand over his thigh. "My family, my friends, my _life_."

"You did that all on your own."

"No." She reaches up and hooks her hand around his neck, tugging so he'll look down at her. "We did it together. _All_ of it."

Damon smiles slowly. "I go where you go." He presses a kiss to her temple as he says, "Always."

Bonnie melts into those words. She looks out at her friends and family and knows he's right. Twenty-five years later and these people still have her back. Damon is still right here next to her. And now, they have a new addition to their family. Another Bennett to help carry on the legacy; one less sacrificial than it has been in the past. Between the three of them, they will create a new legacy. One of strength and power, love and gentleness. The Bennett name will carry on. Their power—in Bonnie, Brenna, Sasha, and even Damon— will forever be one to reckoned with.

And they—as a family, as a couple, as individuals— will never wilt.

* * *

 **end**

* * *

 **note** : _that's a wrap!_

 _i really enjoyed writing this story. season 6 will forever remain my favorite season, just because it had so much potential. we finally saw something happening between bamon that lent itself far beyond friendship. it's too bad the show didn't follow through. but, it gives me plenty to work with. the show writers did a huge disservice to bonnie and the bennetts, frankly. the way she was treated as a magical tool and never really given a chance to see herself beyond that. even when she straight up said that, she still ended up giving away too much of herself for other people. so, i'm happy to write a story where her friends recognize what she's given and they love/support/protect her as much as she has them._

 _i really loved writing sasha in this, too. i wanted bonnie and damon to have a family of their own and writing her was such a joy. i'm not generally a big fan of writing kid!fic, but i like these two as parents. so, i hope you enjoyed that, too. :)_

 _i do have ideas for a sequel, but i'm not sure i'll end up writing it right now. there's just no guarantees. i'm working on updating the WIP fics i still have open. plus, i'm working on a soulmates fic and possibly a fake-dating fic. lots to look forward to!_

 _please try to leave a review! it's hugely encouraging!_

 _thanks so much for reading,  
_ **\- Lee | Fina**


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